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Collection  of  ilortf)  Caroliniana 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


00032690758 

FOR  USE  ONLY  IN 
THE  NORTH  CAROLINA  COLLECTION 


Form  No.  A-368,  Rev.  8/95 


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FROM    NORTH    CAROLINA 
TO  SOUTHERN  CALIFORNIA 

WITHOUT  A  TICKET 
AND   HOW  I   DID  IT 


GIVING  MY  EXCITING  EXPERIENCES 
AS  A  "HOBO" 


BY  JOHN  PEELE 


published  by 

Edwards  &  Broughton  Printing  Company 

1907 


Copyright,  1907,  by 
JOHN   PEELE. 


Sent  postpaid  on  receipt  of  price,  50  cents  in 
stamps.     Address  J.  L.  Peele  &  Bro.,  Tarboro, 

N.  C. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE. 
Off  for  California — My  Troubles  Begin  in  Wilmington — 
Taken   for   a   Deserter — A    Drummer    Comes    to     My 
Rescue    9 

CHAPTER  II. 

Run  Out  of  Town  by  the  Chadbourn  Police — Cash  Run- 
ning Low — Getting  Schedules  Mixed — The  First 
Blush  of  Shame 20 

CHAPTER  III. 

Snatched  from  Death — Forty-nine  Miles  on  a  Hand-car — 

Finding  a  Partner 30 

CHAPTER  IV. 

"Look  Out  for  Hoodlums!" — Retribution  for  Deception — 

Stranded  in  New  Orleans — Meet  With  Kind  Hearts . .     52 

CHAPTER  V. 

A  Hungry  Ride  of  308  Miles— "Hello,  Hello  in  the  Pipe 

There!"— To  Work  Again— Nabbed  by  a  Cop 80 

-  CHAPTER  VI. 

pj  Across  the  Line  Into  New  Mexico — Barren  Sand  Hills — 
^  Jack  Rabbits — Prairie  Dogs — A  Glorious  Sunset,  etc.     95 

V> 
10 


4  Table  of  Contents. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

PAGE. 

Get  a  Job  in  a  Law  Office — Dirty,    Ragged  Clothes    Put 

Off— Smallpox  Starts  Me  Off  Again 105 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
"For  God's  Sake,  Give  Me  a  Drop  of  Water" 109 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Thrown  Into  Jail  at  Los  Angeles 119 


PREFACE. 

After  a  good  deal  of  persuasion  upon  the  part 
of  m}^  relatives  and  immediate  circle  of  friends,  I 
have  decided  to  write  an  account  of  a  few  of  the 
many   adventures   and   dangers  that   befell   me 
while   making  my   way,   practically  without   a 
penny,  from  Tarboro,  North  Carolina,  to  Tucson, 
Arizona;  and  thence  to  the  stricken  city  of  San 
Francisco,    CaL,    and    other   points    of    interest 
throughout  the  West,   including  New   Orleans, 
Dallas,  Texas,  Fort  Worth,  El  Paso,   Dalhart, 
Texas,   Alamagorda,  New   Mexico,   Juarez,   Old 
Mexico,  Bisbee,  Arizona,  Los  Angeles,  California, 
San  Pedro,  California,  Searchlight,  Nevada,  Den- 
ver, Colorado,  and  more  than  a  hundred  other 
points  of  interest,  coming  back  home  on  a  tele- 
graphed   ticket,    via    Chicago,    Cincinnati,    and 
Richmond,  Virginia. 

The  book  bears  no  relation  to  fiction,  as  the 
reader  will  discover  before  reading  many  of  its 
pages.  The  writer,  believing  it  will  be  more  in- 
teresting, will  unreservedly  show  up  all  his  faults 
and  mistakes  along  the  trip,  as  well  as  his  good 
qualities.  There  is  nothing  in  the  book  pertain- 
ing to  the  supernatural,  nor  is  it  of  a  highly  sen- 
sational character,  bi^t  the  writer  believes  it  will 
prove  more  than  interesting  to  the  intelligent 
mind.  It  is  a  true  story  from  real  life  that  every 
boy  in  America  can  read  and  profit  thereby.  The 
book  is  a  record  of  facts  and  incidents,  which 
were  written  down  in  shorthand,  and  transcribed 


6  Preface. 

at  different  stages  of  the  journey  by  the  author. 
The  story  is  backed  by  the  indisputable  evidence 
of  testimonials  and  correct  addresses  of  the  most 
prominent  people  with  whom  the  writer  came  in 
contact.  This  book  demonstrates  the  value  of 
physical  culture  and  education  to  the  American 
youth  as  the  author  believes  no  other  work  upon 
the  market  has  yet  done.  The  writer  graduated 
at  the  Massey  Business  College,  Richmond,  Va., 
in  bookkeeping,  etc. 

Feeling  the  need  of  rest  and  recreation  after 
several  years  of  hard  study  at  school,  and  being  a 
great  sufferer  from  asthma,  the  author,  hearing 
of  the  dry  and  beneficial  climate  of  Arizona  and 
New  Mexico  to  those  who  have  weak  lungs,  de- 
cided almost  immediately  after  leaving  school  at 
Richmond,  Va.,  to  go  to  Tucson,  Ariz.,  and  per- 
sonally verify  these  reports,  and  probably  settle 
there  permanently  himself. 

The  author,  John  Peele,  of  Tarboro,  N.  C,  is 
just  nineteen  years  of  age,  and  though  he  had 
knocked  about  the  world  considerably  prior  to  the 
opening  of  this  story,  he  had  heretofore  always 
held  a  ticket  to  his  destination.  And  now,  dear 
readers,  follow  him  patiently  and  he  will  attempt 
to  show  you  how  he  turned  the  trick  of  getting 
West  without  a  ticket.  Trusting  the  book  may 
be  of  value  to  mothers  in  restraining  their  way- 
ward sons  to  stay  at  home,  however  humble  it 
may  be,  I  beg  to  subscribe  myself,  sincerely,  the 
author,  John  Peele. 


$50  00  REWARD.  $5000 


I  am  a  poor  man,  but  if  the  darkey,  who  twice 
saved  my  life  by  catching  me  while  standing  up 
on  the  end  of  a  loaded  flat-car  fast  asleep,  and 
preventing  my  falling  between  the  wheels  of  a 
rapidly  moving  freight  train  about  ten  or  fifteen 
miles  from  the  town  of  Woodbine^  Fla.,  on  a  cer- 
tain night  in  May  in  the  year  1906,  and  who 
afterwards  accompanied  me  forty-nine  miles  on 
a  hand-car  to  Jacksonville,  can  prove  his  identity, 
by  telling  me  what  happened  when  we  parted  on 
the  railroad  in  the  suburbs  of  that  city,  and  will 
communicate  his  intelligence  to  John  Peele,  Tar- 
boro,  N.  C,  he  will  receive  the  sum  of  fifty  dol- 
lars (150.00).  John  Peele. 


TESTIMONIALS. 


Searchlight,  Nev. 

John  Peele  was  in  my  employ  here  for  some 
time,  first  as  porter,  then  as  bar  tender  in  the 
Searchlight  Hotel. 

I  hereby  give  Mr.  Peele  the  privilege  of  print- 
ing this  testimonial,  both  in  his  book  and  in  the 
newspaper  columns,  advertising  the  book. 

Fred.  Ullman. 

John  : — TMienever  you  come  out  West  again, 
you  can  get  another  job.     You  are  all  right. 

U. 


Chipley,  Fla. 

This  is  to  certify  that  John  Peele,  being  pulled 
down  in  this  town  from  under  the  boiler  of  a 
morning  passenger  train  bound  for  Pensacola, 
Fla.,  was  employed  by  me  at  my  brick  yard. 

I  hereby  give  Mr.  Peele  the  privilege  of  print- 
ing this  testimonial,  both  in  his  book  and  in  the 
newspaper  columns  advertising  the  book. 

J.  D.  Hall. 


JOHN  R.  PEELE. 


From  North  Carolina  to  Southern  California 
Without  a  Ticket. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Off  For  California — My  Troubles  Begin  in  Wil- 
mington— Taken  for  a  Deserter — A  Drummer 
Comes  to  My  Rescue. 

The  details  of  my  former  life  will  not  be  given 
here,  but  as  I  stood  waiting  on  the  depot  platform 
at  Tarboro,  N.  C,  with  my  brother  Joe,  who  had 
come  to  bid  me  good-bye,  one  fine  day  in  early 
May,  in  the  year  1906,  I  could,  at  least,  say  that 
no  other  chap  of  my  acquaintance  could  name 
any  more  varied  occupations  in  which  he  had 
been  engaged  than  I  could. 

I  had  been  grocery  clerk  for  my  people  at  Tar- 
boro;  water  boy  at  the  age  of  14  at  the  Buffalo 
Lithia  Springs  in  Virginia,  where  I  made  scores 
of  friends  from  all  parts  of  the  country;  dry- 
goods  salesman  for  Chas.  Broadway  Rouss,  New 
York  City ;  waiter  in  a  Coney  Island  restaurant ; 
bell-boy  in  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel,  New  York 
City;  waiter  in  Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  where  I  had  gone 
to  be  treated  by  the  famous  Dr.  R.  Y.  Pierce  for 
asthma;  traveling  agent  through  the  South  for 
Jas.  M.  Davis,  New  York,  with  stereoscopic  views, 


10  From  North  Carolina 

at  which  I  cleared  over  |400.00  in  one  summer's 
canvass,  nearly  ruining  my  vocal  organs;  Bible 
agent  through  the  country  for  J.  S.  Peele  &  Co. ; 
stenographer,  bookkeeper,  and  scores  of  other 
things  I  engaged  in,  too  numerous  to  mention. 

The  train,  which  was  to  mark  the  beginning  of 
more  adventures,  hardships  and  trials  than  I,  at 
that  time,  could  possibly  imagine,  pulled  into  the 
station  at  Tarboro,  N.  C,  and  bidding  my  brother 
good-bye,  I  got  aboard. 

I  had  four  dollars  in  money,  several  letters  of 
recommendation,  and  a  ticket.  Among  the  let- 
ters was  a  note  of  commendation,  kindly  given 
me  by  Mr.  John  F.  Shackelford,  of  the  Bank  of 
Tarboro,  and  another  one,  equally  as  highly  ap- 
preciated, from  Mr.  Frank  Powell,  the  editor  of 
the  Tarboro  Southerner.  The  ticket  was  labeled 
Wilmington,  N.  C,  and  had  been  purchased 
merely  as  a  blind  to  my  parents,  who  were  un- 
aware of  the  fact  that  I  had  come  home  from 
school  '^flat-broke,"  and  as  a  consequence,  of 
course,  unable  to  purchase  my  fare  to  the  West. 

Parting  with  my  mother  affected  me  no  little, 
for  it  was  my  intention  not  to  return  home  for 
several  years. 

Tarboro  was  soon  left  behind,  however,  and 
now  other  and  graver  thoughts  began  to  take  pos- 
session of  me.  What  was  I  to  do  in  Wilmington 
with  only  four  dollars?  And  how  was  I  to  get 
out  of  the  town  anyway,  unless  I  purchased 
another  ticket? 


to  Southern  California.  11 

During  all  of  my  travels,  I  had  never  yet  beaten 
the  railroad  company  out  of  a  penny,  and  just 
how  I  was  going  to  board  a  train  without  being 
caught  and  locked  up  was  the  question. 

Little  did  I  think  at  that  time  how  expert  and 
bold  I  was  to  become  at  this  kind  of  thing  before 
reaching  far  off  Tucson,  Arizona. 

The  train  pulled  under  the  shed  at  Wilmington 
just  after  dark.  It  was  with  great  reluctance  I 
got  out  of  my  seat;  in  fact,  all  the  other  passen- 
gers had  alighted  when  I  got  my  bundles  together. 

I  would  have  sworn  that  there  was  a  big,  blue- 
coated  oj0&cer  waiting  to  put  handcuffs  on  me  the 
moment  I  stej)ped  from  the  car  platform,  but  no 
such  thing  happened.  Instead  the  whole  train 
was  deserted  and  the  porter  informed  me  that 
I  had  better  hurry,  if  I  wanted  to  get  through  the 
exit  before  it  closed. 

Eegaining  courage,  I  hurried  along  in  the  di- 
rection the  other  passengers  had  taken,  and  a  few 
moments  later  emerged  on  Front  street,  Wilming- 
ton's busiest  thoroughfare. 

T  was  by  no  means  a  stranger  to  Wilmington, 
and,  therefore,  had  little  trouble  in  finding  a 
good  place  at  which  to  put  up,  without  going  to 
an  expensive  hotel. 

Leaving  my  few  belongings  behind,  I  started 
out  afterwards  to  retrace  my  steps  back  to  the 
depot  and  railroad  yards  for  the  purpose  of  ob- 
taining any  information  I  could  regarding  the 
schedule  of  the  trains. 


12  From  North  Carolina 

About  midway  the  bridge,  which  connects  the 
depot  with  Front  street,  I  noticed  two  colored 
men  engaged  in  watching  the  trains  shift  in  and 
out  of  the  yards.  I  at  once  decided  that  here  was 
an  opportunity  to  start  the  ball  rolling,  and  ac- 
cordingly approached  them  and  told  them  where 
I  wanted  to  2:0.  In  return  they  informed  me  that 
they  were  not  trainmen,  as  I  had  supposed,  but 
were  employed  on  the  steamboat  Perdy. 

The  name  of  their  Captain  was  Archie  Marine, 
they  said,  and  added  that  he  was  a  good,  free- 
hearted sort  of  a  man,  and  might  be  able  to  help 
me  get  down  the  coast  on  a  boat.  One  of  them 
offered  to  conduct  me  to  the  Perdy' s  wharf,  and 
a  short  time  later  we  were  on  board. 

The  engineer  of  the  boat  was  the  only  man  on 
board  when  we  arrived,  and  he  informed  me  that 
the  Cai)tain  hadn't  shown  up  since  late  in  the 
afternoon. 

A  significant  twinkle  of  the  eye  accompanied 
this  remark,  and  not  being  altogether  blind,  I 
concluded  that  the  Perdy's  captain  was  in  some 
respects  the  same  as  all  other  sea-faring  men. 

"Do  you  know  where  he  generally  holds  forth 
when  on  shore?''  I  asked. 

"No,  but  probably  some  of  the  crew  on  shore 
can  tell  you,  if  you  can  find  them,"  he  replied. 

Disappointed,  I  made  my  way  up  town  again. 

Entering  a  drug  store,  and  calling  for  a  direc- 
tory, I  soon  found  Marine's  residence  address, 
and  a  half  hour  later  I  had  reached  his  home. 


to  ISouthern  California.  13 

Several  children  met  me  at  the  door,  and  in  re- 
sponse to  my  query,  summoned  their  mother,  a 
very  pleasant-faced  woman,  as  I  recall  her,  who 
at  once  seemed  to  know  that  I  was  in  trouble. 

She  gave  me  explicit  directions  how  to  find  her 
husband. 

'Tlease  tell  him  to  come  home  at  once,  if  you 
find  him,''  she  said.  It  was  after  11  o'clock  when 
I  bade  the  lady  good-night. 

After  losing  all  this  time,  I  was  determined  to 
find  Marine  now,  if  I  had  to  traverse  every  street 
in  Wilmington. 

Having  canvassed  views  in  the  town,  I  had  no 
trouble  in  finding  the  section  the  lady  had  di- 
rected me  to. 

The  place  I  entered  was  a  kind  of  half  grocery 
store  and  half  saloon — the  saloon,  of  course,  be- 
ing in  the  rear. 

On  entering,  my  attention  w^as  directed  to  a 
party  of  four  men,  evidently  seamen,  judging 
from  their  language,  w^ho  were  in  the  front  part 
of  the  store  engaged  in  a  conversation  that  could 
easily  have  been  heard  a  block  away. 

At  last  I  felt  sure  I  had  cornered  my  man. 

It  has  always  been  my  belief  that  I  was  espe- 
cially blessed  with  the  knack  of  making  friends 
with  a  stranger,  and  this  talent,  which  is  the 
only  one  I  think  I  ever  possessed,  had  certainly 
had  ample  opportunity  in  my  varied  life  to  de- 
velop into  an  art. 


14  From  North  Carolina 


(<] 


'Hello,  mates  I"  I  sang  out,  approaching  the 
quartet  with  a  smile — what  wonders  a  smile  will 
work  when  used  right — ^'I'm  looking  for  Archie 
Marine,  fellows.  Do  you  know  where  he  is  to- 
night?" 

Immediately  one  of  the  men  stepped  forward. 

'^My  name  is  Marine,"  he  said,  ''\Miat's  up?"^ 

He  had  a  pleasant  way  of  speaking,  and  it  was 
soon  apparent  that  he  embodied  all  the  good 
qualities  which  the  two  darkies  on  Front  street 
bridge  had  invested  him  with. 

"It's  something  important,  Marine;  come  with 
me  and  I'll  tell  you." 

Without  a  word  the  man  turned  his  back  upon 
the  jolly  companions  with  whom  he  had  been 
lately  carousing,  and  together  we  left  the  place. 

We  went  two  blocks  up  the  street,  and  here, 
under  the  shelter  of  a  drug  store,  I  told  him  I 
wanted  to  get  as  far  down  the  coast  as  Jackson- 
ville, Fla. 

He  said  he  thought  he  could  help  me  do  so. 

"The  boats  no  longer  run  from  here  to  George- 
town, S.  C,"  he  said,  "but  there's  a  boat  from 
Wilmington  to  Southport,  N.  C,  daily  for  sev- 
enty-five cents,  and  you  can  easily  walk  across 
the  sands  from  Southport  to  Georgetown  in  a 
day  and  a  half.  You'll  not  be  lonesome,"  he 
added,  "for  there  are  houses  every  few  miles,  and 
I'll  write  you  a  note  to  a  friend  of  mine  in  George- 
town, who'll  take  you  to  Charleston,  S.  C,  and 


to  Southern  California,  15 

another  note  to  the  engineer  who  runs  between 
Charleston  and  Jacksonville." 

This  was  great!  I  was  to  get  nearly  a  thou- 
sand miles  on  my  journey  without  incurring  the 
risk  of  beating  a  train.  The  mere  contemplation 
of  beating  a  train  seemed  to  stir  up  all  the  ani- 
mosity in  my  nature  towards  all  train  officials. 

What !  I,  John  R.  Peele,  the  boy  who  had  always 
been  so  careful  at  home  about  washing  his  face 
and  keeping  his  clothes  brushed,  attempt  to  hide 
on  a  train,  and  beat  his  fare? 

No,  I  was  to  preserve  my  dignity  and  travel 
like  a  gentleman  on  a  large  steamboat  to  Jack- 
sonville, and  then  other  means  would  surely  pre- 
sent themselves,  as  probably  another  boat  ran 
from  Jacksonville  to  Galveston,  Texas. 

Splendid  idea!  Why  the  trip  was  going  to 
prove  easy — a  regular  ^^cinch,''  and  I  could  afford 
to  laugh  at  the  train  people  now,  and  that  for  a 
good  long  time,  too,  but  alas!  my  joy  was  short- 
lived, for  I  was  soon  to  learn  the  truth  of  the  old 
adage :  ^'The  best  laid  plans  ofttimes  go  astray." 

We  entered  the  drug  store,  and  Marine,  after 
much  effort,  composed  the  notes,  which  he  wrote 
down  in  my  memorandum  book. 

The  following  is  a  reproduction  of  one  of  them, 
verbatim,  taken  from  the  same  little  book,  which 
I  yet  own : 


16  From  North  Carolina 

^'Engineer, 

Mr.  J.  Dunn  wil  you  bee  kind  enough  to  help 
my  yung  friend  over  to  J.  and  let  me  hear  from 
you  oblige"  Archie  Marine. 

I  was  also  given  a  letter  of  introduction  to  his 
brother,  William  Marine,  who  is  a  very  popular 
Jacksonville  citizen,  and  who  is  superintendent 
of  the  Clyde  Line  Docks  in  that  city. 

The  author  desires  to  publicly  thank  Mr.  Ma 
rine  through  this  book  for  that  service,  and  feels 
confident,  had  he  ever  reached  Georgetown,  the 
notes  would  undoubtedly  have  been  of  much  as- 
sistance. 

At  2  p.  m.  the  following  day  I  boarded  the  boat 
for  Southport,  and  knowing  how  I  was  to  travel 
on  leaving  home,  I  had  only  brought  along  one 
suit  of  clothes,  which  I  had  on. 

It  was  a  nice  fitting  khaki  suit,  with  prominent 
brass  buttons,  and  seemed  to  be  the  very  thing 
for  the  wear  and  tear  of  a  long  journey.  It  was 
a  homeguard  suit,  though  I  was  no  homeguard, 
and  had  never  been  one,  but  purchased  the  suit 
just  before  leaving  home. 

Now,  as  the  reader  may  not  be  aware.  South- 
port  is  a  favorite  camping  resort  of  North  Caro- 
lina's home  guards,  and  as  luck  would  have  it, 
there  was  a  company  encamped  there  at  this  par- 
ticular time. 


to  Southern  California.  17 

Up  to  this  time  I  had  paid  no  heed  to  what  I 
was  wearing,  but  it  was  soon  obvious  that  I  was 
attracting  unusual  attention. 

There  were  three  or  four  men  in  blue  uniforms 
on  the  boat,  who  seemed  to  give  me  their  whole 
attention,  for  everywhere  I  went  on  the  boat  they 
would  follow  me  and  begin  their  whisperings,  and 
it  was  fast  becoming  a  nuisance,  when,  finally, 
one  of  them  stepped  up  to  me  and  asked : 

'^Are  you  a  home  guard?" 

^'I  am  not,''  I  replied  civilly,  realizing  my 
clothes  warranted  the  question. 

''The  reason  I  asked,"  he  said,  "there  has  been 
a  desertion  in  one  of  the  companies  lately,  and 
the  description  of  the  deserter  fits  you.  If  you 
were  to  land  there  now  and  suddenly  make  off 
across  the  sands  towards  Georgetown — I  had  in- 
formed him  of  my  intention — you  would  quite 
likely  be  overtaken  and  held  three  or  four  days 
for  identification,"  he  said. 

Having  never  been  a  home  guard,  I  did  not 
know  whether  the  man  was  playing  a  practical 
joke  on  me  or  was  telling  the  truth,  but  I  did  not 
want  to  be  detained  there  for  several  days,  and 
I  was  inclined  to  believe  what  he  said  was  the 
truth.     However,  I  did  not  betray  this  fact. 

Instead,  I  laughed  and  remarked  that  I  was 
not  afaid ;  but  all  three  of  the  men  stoutly  main- 
tained that  they  had  tried  to  do  me  a  favor,  and 
seeing  that  I  appeared  to  take  it  as  a  joke,  one  of 
2 


18  From  North  Carolina 

the  men  finally  got  angry  and  wished  me  all  sorts 
of  bad  things,  and  said  he  hoped  I  would  be  ar- 
rested as  soon  as  the  boat  landed. 

The  cabin  was  filled  with  passengers,  and  soon 
it  was  the  topic  of  conversation,  and  some  thought 
I  would  be  held,  while  others  took  the  opposite 
side. 

Sitting  almost  in  front  of  me  was  a  well  dressed 
man,  whom,  I  noticed,  had  taken  no  part  in  the 
conversation,  and  he,  catching  my  eye  for  a  mo- 
ment, winked  at  me  and  arose  and  left  the  cabin. 

Soon  after  I  followed  him  to  a  deserted  part  of 
the  boat. 

"I  am  a  Philadelphia  drummer,"  he  said,  ^^and 
don't  know  which  side  to  stand  on,  but  if  you  will 
go  to  the  engine  room,  I  will  follow  soon  with  a 
sample  grip  of  cheap  clothing,  and  you  may  pick 
out  a  cheap  suit  free  of  charge,  if  you  will  cut  the 
buttons  off  your  khaki  coat  and  give  them  to  me, 
and  I  readily  agreed  and  the  change  was  soon 
effected. 

Whether  I  was  the  victim  of  a  practical  joke  or 
not,  I  have  never  learned,  but  if  so,  I  was  ahead 
of  the  game  in  the  clothing  by  a  long  sight,  for  1 
had  selected  a  good,  warm  suit. 

And  now  the  strangest  part  of  all,  I  had  de- 
cided not  to  land  in  Southport. 

It  was  seventy-two  miles  to  Georgetown,  and 
bad  walking  in  the  sand,  I  was  told. 


to  Southern  CaJifor^iia.  19 

The  more  I  thought  of  it,  the  sicker  I  became, 
and  now  what  was  I  to  do?     Turn  tramp? 

Never ! 

Beating  the  trains  would  be  infinitely  prefer- 
able, and  I  would  go  back  to  Wilmington  and 
do  so. 

The  boat  landed  and  discharged  the  passengers, 
when,  to  everyone's  surprise,  I  remained  on  board, 
and  just  what  they  thought  I  am  unable  to  say. 

Quite  likely  the  Philadelphia  dummer  thought 
the  joke  was  on  him,  for  I  had  told  him  I  was  so 
eager  to  get  to  Georgetow^n. 

Passengers  returning  to  the  city  now  filed  on, 
and  in  a  short  time  the  boat  cast  off  and  headed 
for  Wilmington. 

On  the  return  trip  I  noticed  I  was  charged 
twenty-five  cents  more  than  when  coming  down, 
and  I  supposed  the  home  guards  were  allowed  this 
discount.  We  landed  in  Wilmington  just  after 
dark. 

My  lodging,  breakfast  and  dinner  had  deprived 
me  of  seventy-five  cents,  and  the  trip  to  South 
port  had  cost  $1.25,  which  left  me  the  sum  of 
$2.00,  but  I  had  no  occasion  to  regret  my  trip 
down  the  river,  for  as  a  result  I  was  now  wearing 
an  early  spring  suit. 

All  of  my  fond  hopes  of  reaching  Jacksonville 
easily  were  now  cast  to  the  ground. 

Gathering  up  my  bundles  and  the  khaki  suit, 
I  made  my  way  on  shore. 


20  From  North  Carolina 

CHAPTER  II. 

Run  Out  of  Town  by  the  Chadhoiirn  Police — 
Cash  Running  Low — Getting  Schedules  Mixed 
— The  First  Blush  of  Shame, 

It  would  be  hard  to  describe  my  feelings  as  I 
started  up  town.  I  was  hungry  and  ate  a  good 
supper,  though  I  felt  like  crying  as  the  cashier 
took  my  twenty-five  cents,  for  I  had  never  been 
penniless  in  a  strange  town  in  my  life,  and  now 
my  stock  of  nerve  was  weighed  exactly  by  just 
what  money  I  had  left ;  but  the  worst  thing  that 
hindered  my  progress,  I  was  heartily  ashamed  of 
what  I  was  going  to  attempt  to  do. 

Arriving  at  Market  Square,  I  experienced  no 
difficulty  shortly  afterwards  in  striking  an  ac- 
quaintance with  a  rather  shabbily  dressed  young 
man,  who  seemed  to  know  all  about  the  trains. 

Finding  that  I  was  eager  to  leave  at  once,  he 
remarked : 

'^You  have  just  about  fifteen  minutes  to  leave 
Wilmington  on  a  freight  train  to-night.  The  last 
freight  train  pulls  out  at  8 :15  to-night,  and  it  is 
now  8  o'clock." 

Luckily  what  little  baggage  I  owned  was  Avith 
me,  and  in  another  moment  I  was  rapidly  walk- 
ing to  the  place  named.  I  quickly  saw  this 
wouldn't  do,  though,  for  it  was  nearly  a  mile  to 
the  depot,  and  turning  into  a  residence  street,  I 
broke  into  a  run. 


to  Southern  Califot^nia.  21 

Panting  for  breath  I  reached  the  railroad 
yards. 

There  was  no  sign  of  a  train  pulling  out,  nor 
was  there  one  making  up,  and  so  far  as  I  could 
see  there  was  not  the  slightest  evidence  of  life 
about  the  yards,  and  it  began  to  look  like  another 
practical  joke  had  been  played  on  me. 

Just  across  the  tracks  at  this  point  are  a  good 
many  small  tenement  houses,  for  the  most  part 
occupied  by  colored  people,  who  are  employed  by 
the  railroad  company. 

Calling  out  one  of  the  occupants  of  these 
houses,  I  asked  him  if  the  8 :15  freight  had  gone. 

^'The  schedule's  been  changed,  and  there  ain't 
no  8:15  freight,"  said  the  darkey.  "The  last 
night  freight  for  Florence  left  about  an  hour 
ago." 

To  reach  Jacksonville,  I  would  have  to  go 
through  Florence,  S.  C,  and  Savannah,  Ga. 

^^If  you'll  go  to  Hilton  Bridge  to-morrow  even- 
ing," said  the  darkey, /^you  might  be  able  to  catch 
a  passenger  train  that  passes  about  3  p.  m.  on 
Sundays." 

Hilton  Bridge  spans  the  Cape  Fear  River  near 
this  point,  and  all  trains  are  required  by  the  law 
to  slow  up  before  crossing. 

For  this  information  the  man  received  a  but- 
tonless  khaki  suit. 

The  next  morning  was  Sunday,  and  after  pay- 
ing my  lodging  I  had  but  $1.35. 


22  From  North  Carolina 

Hardship  was  certainly  beginning  to  stare  me 
in  the  face  at  an  early  stage  of  the  trip. 

Oh!  how  I  wished  now  I  had  stayed  at  home, 
where  my  every  wish  had  been  gratified  by  tender, 
loving  hands,  but  it  was  too  late !  My  pride  was 
up  in  arms,  and  I  would  see  the  game  through  to 
the  bitter  end. 

On  this  day  I  ate  neither  breakfast  nor  dinner, 
and  early  in  the  afternoon  I  repaired  to  the 
bridge  to  wait. 

The  man  who  runs  a  small  ^^pop  shop"  on  the 
Wilmington  side  of  the  bridge  amused  me  with 
stories  of  the  many  young  men  he  had  seen  beat 
their  way  from  this  point,  and  I  got  him  to  tell 
me  just  how  the  others  had  done,  and  was  be- 
coming quite  brave,  till  he  began  describing  how 
he  had  seen  one  man  miss  his  footing,  and  showed 
me  the  spot  where  the  cars  had  run  over  both  legs. 

The  train  w^as  coming !  And  the  supreme  test 
of  the  trip  was  at  hand. 

I  took  up  a  position  at  the  curve,  which  is 
about  two  hundred  yards  from  the  bridge. 

The  engineer  bestowed  a  quick  glance  at  me  as 
he  passed,  then  his  gaze  wandered  ahead. 

Grabbing  up  the  two  bundles,  which  were  hid- 
den behind  a  telegraph  pole,  I  made  a  quick  dash 
forward  and  succeeded  in  boarding  the  first  coach 
from  the  engine,  commonly  known  as  the  ^^blind 
baggage." 

I  didn't  stop  on  the  car  platform,  as  is  usually 


to  Southern  California.  23 

done,  but  crawled  to  the  top  of  the  tender,  which 
was  Avell  loaded  with  coal. 

As  near  as  possible  I  made  things  comfortable 
by  placing  the  largest  lumps  of  coal  out  of  reach, 
thus  enabling  me  to  partly  conceal  myself  by 
lying  down. 

Exultation  was  now  mingled  with  excitement. 

I  had  just  begun  to  congratulate  myself  when, 
to  my  dismay,  I  noted  that  the  train  was  slacken- 
ing speed.     A  moment  later  it  stopped. 

Footsteps  now  sounded,  hurriedly  approaching 
the  engine. 

I  lay  quite  still,  almost  afraid  to  breathe,  as  the 
conductor  and  porter  came  up. 

''Come  down  from  there!  Come  down!"  cried 
the  conductor. 

I  raised  up  intending  to  ask  him  to  let  me  go. 

'^Come  down,  quick !"  he  cried.  ''Tramps  and 
hobos  are  not  allowed  on  this  train." 

This  was  quite  enough  for  John  Reginald  Peele, 
and  without  any  more  ado  he  crawled  down. 

My  first  impulse  was  to  knock  out  my  insulter 
with  a  lump  of  hard  coal,  but  better  judgment 
prevailed,  and  I  soon  reached  the  ground  by  his 

side. 

After  all,  I  reasoned,  he  was  only  performing 
his  duty  in  putting  me  down,  and  he  was  fully 
justified  in  calling  me  a  tramp  and  a  hobo,  for  I 
was  not  only  acting  both  these  parts  very  well, 
but  was  now  looking  the  part. 


24 


From  North  Carolina 


"Come  down  quick!"  he  cried.     "Tramps  and  hobos  are  not 
allowed  on  this  train." 


to  Southern  California.  25 

Before  boarding  the  train  I  had  been  spotlessly 
clean.  Now  my  hands  were  black,  my  white  col- 
lar soiled,  and  my  new  clothes  nearly  ruined. 

This  was  the  picture  I  presented  to  a  score  or 
more  of  curious  passengers,  who  had  poked  their 
heads  out  of  the  car  windows  to  ascertain  the 
cause  of  the  delay. 

In  deep  shame  I  hung  my  head,  and  it  seemed 
that  everyone  of  those  passengers  had  recognized 
me.  This  was  mere  fancy,  of  course,  for  I  was 
then  over  a  hundred  miles  from  home.  At  any 
rate,  there  was  one  thing  certain.  I  had  been 
left  and  the  train  was  now  belching  forth  black 
smoke  far  up  the  road. 

Those  who  had  witnessed  my  defeat  from  the 
''pop  shop"  on  the  other  side  were  now  eagerly 
awaiting  me  as  I  recrossed  the  bridge,  and  they 
were  ready  with  sympathy  as  I  told  them  how  I 
had  been  put  down. 

''That  train  goes  to  Charlotte,  anyway,"  said 
the  storekeeper.  "I  think  the  next  one,  which  is 
due  in  about  twenty  minutes,  is  the  Florence 
train." 

A  good  many  men  will  live  half  their  life  in 
a  place  and  yet  never  know  the  exact  time  a  cer- 
tain train  is  due,  nor  where  it  is  bound,  and  I 
would  have  to  rely  on  my  own  luck,  for  it  was 
quickly  apparent  that  he  was  one  of  the  class  who 
are  never  profoundly  sure  of  anything. 

Had  I  gone  to  Charlotte  I  would  have  been 


26  From  North  Carolina 

taken  completely  out  of  my  way,  at  the  very  out- 
set, causing  all  kinds  of  trouble,  and  this  served  a 
good  deal  to  show  me  the  exact  size  of  the  job  I 
had  undertaken. 

Most  of  my  fear  had  now  vanished.  No  real 
harm  had  resulted  in  my  first  attempt  at  beating 
a  train,  and  the  tinge  of  excitement  had  proven 
quite  fascinating. 

Of  course  the  local  authorities  of  the  hundreds 
of  towns  I  must  pass  through  had  to  be  consid 
ered,  and  indeed  this  was  now  my  greatest  fear, 
for,  in  a  good  many  towns,  as  the  reader  is  per- 
haps aware,  a  man  caught  beating  a  train  suffers 
the  penalty  of  from  one  to  twelve  months  hard 
labor  on  the  county  roads. 

A  second  train  was  coming;  and  now  was  the 
time  for  me  to  make  good ! 

This  time  I  boarded  the  train  without  exciting 
suspicion.  A  repetition  of  my  former  antics 
quickly  followed,  and  I  was  soon  lying  flat  upon 
the  coal,  gripping  the  top  of  the  tender  now, 
though,  for  my  uncomfortable  bed  of  coal  had 
suddenly  assumed  the  motion  of  a  cradle,  as  the 
result  of  the  train's  sudden  increase  of  speed. 

Wilmington  rapidly  receded  from  view,  and 
with  a  feeling  of  joy,  savored  with  suppressed  ex- 
citement, I  closed  my  eyes  for  a  moment. 

Where  I  was  going  and  what  I  would  do  when 
I  got  there  were  thoughts  that  chased  through 
my  brain. 


to  Southern  California.  27 

I  tried  to  picture  far  off  Arizona,  with  its 
mountains  and  barren  deserts,  and  wondered  if  it 
would  cure  or  benefit  my  asthma^ — I  would  go  di- 
rect to  Solomonsville,  Arizona,  where  our  State 
Treasurer,  Lacy,  had  been  cured. 

Suddenly  I  sat  up. 

^'What  a  fool  I  am,"  I  muttered.  ^^Sitting  here 
in  plain  view,  to  be  arrested  at  the  first  station 
we  stop.'' 

In  a  few  moments  I  had  dug  out  a  large  hole  in 
the  coal  and  crawled  into  it,  placing  the  largest 
lumps  around  the  edge  of  the  opening  to  help 
shield  me  from  view. 

Every  thing  went  well  until  about  dark,  when 
we  reached  the  small  town  of  Chadbourn,  N.  C, 
fifty-seven  miles  from  Wilmington. 

Here  the  man  at  the  pump  house,  which  is  lo- 
cated close  to  the  depot,  had  seen  an  uncovered 
foot,  and  called  the  conductor's  attention  to  it. 

The  conductor,  who  was  a  good  sort  of  a  man, 
had  discovered  my  presence  on  the  train  long  be- 
fore reaching  Chadbourn,  and  so  had  others  of 
the  train's  crew.  The  man  in  the  baggage  car 
was  even  taking  care  of  my  bundles,  which  he 
had  allowed  me  to  deposit  in  a  corner  of  the  car. 

Unaware  of  the  fact  that  I  had  been  discovered, 
I  lay  perfectly  still,  afraid  to  move  hand  or  foot, 
and  it  seemed  to  me  the  train  would  never  start. 

Several  people  approached  the  engine,  includ- 
ing a  policeman  of  the  town  and  the  conductor. 


28  From  North  Carolina 

^^Come  down  off  that  coal  pile,"  cried  the  con- 
ductor. 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  command,  and  I 
crawled  down. 

If  I  was  a  sight  before,  I  was  a  whole  show 
now,  for  I  was  smutty  from  head  to  foot. 

"I  didn't  know  he  was  up  there,"  said  the  con- 
ductor. 

Inwardly  I  thanked  the  conductor,  whom  I 
knew  had  been  trying  to  help  me  along. 

^'I'U  take  charge  of  this  young  man,"  said  the 
policeman. 

'^Please  get  my  things,"  I  said.  "I  hid  them 
in  the  baggage  car." 


to  Southern  California. 


29 


"I'll  take  charge  of  this  young  man,"  said  the  policeman. 


30  From  North  Carolina 

CHAPTEE  III. 

Snatched  From  Death — Forty-nine  Miles  on  a 
Hand-car — Finding  a  Partner. 

Two-score  people  had  seen  me  pulled  down 
from  the  tender,  and  were  now  watching  the  re- 
sult of  my  sudden  discomfiture  with  interest,  and 
with  a  look  of  deep  humiliation  and  embarrass- 
ment— for  the  most  part  assumed — for  my  vanity 
had  materially  suffered  in  that  fifty-seven  mile 
ride,  I  now  stood  in  the  presence  of  the  policeman. 

Apparently  I  could  not  even  look  up  at  th3 
cruel,  cold-staring  crowd  of  country  folks  that 
thickly  gathered  around  me. 

Evidently  the  policeman  was  touched,  and  un- 
aware of  the  fact  that  I  was  playing  on  his  sym 
pathy,  he  questioned  me  as  to  where  I  lived,  where 
I  was  going,  etc.,  all  of  w^hich  I  answered  in  a 
straightforward  manner,  adding  that  I  was  going 
West  to  cure  the  asthma,  and  that  I  had  letters  of 
recommendation. 

I  had  several  other  letters  of  this  kind  in  my 
pocket,  but  remembering  that  home  reference  is 
said  to  be  the  best,  I  selected  only  two  from  the 
bunch — those  of  Mr.  John  Shackelford  and  Mr. 
Frank  Powell,  and  here  I  must  beg  their  pardon, 
most  humbly,  for  using  their  kind  notes  of  praise 
like  this,  and  am  sure  they'll  forgive  me,  for  I  was 
in  a  tight  box. 


to  Southern  California.  31 

After  reading  tlie  two  papers  over  carefully,  he 
slowly  remarked,  with  a  puzzled  look  on  his  face : 

"Look  here !  it's  against  my  rule,  but  I'm  going 
to  let  you  go  this  time.  Just  scoot  down  that 
tx'ack,  now,  and  remember,"  he  added,  as  I  started 
through  the  increasing  throng,  "if  you  return  I 
shall  run  you  in." 

There  was  nothing  to  do  but  walk,  and  I  started 
down  the  tracks,  walking — I  knew  not  where. 

My  scheme  had  worked  and  I  was  free,  but  far 
from  being  in  a  happy  frame  of  mind. 

A  small  hand-mirror  showed  me  a  face  that 
frightened  me  with  its  blackness,  and  my  hands 
were  in  even  a  worse  condition. 

"Oh,  if  my  people  could  only  see  me  now!"  I 
mused. 

A  sudden  recollection  quickened  my  pace — in 
the  terms  of  the  law  I  was  a  vagrant,  and  what, 
if  the  Chadbourn  official  should  change  his  mind 
about  letting  me  go.  This  was  a  phase  of  the 
case  I  had  not  considered  before,  being  a  vagrant, 
and  darkness  had  settled  down,  and  I  had  been 
silently  walking  along  the  pathway  of  the  track 
for  some  time,  when  my  melancholy  musings 
were  suddenly  put  to  flight.  A  quarter  of  a  mile 
ahead  a  light  was  shining.  "Some  farm-house 
built  near  the  railroad,"  I  speculated;  "wonder 
if  they'll  give  me  shelter."  Drawing  nearer,  I 
discovered  my  mistake.  The  light  was  issuing 
from  the  windows  of  a  small  store. 


32  From  North  Carolina 

A  large  railroad  board  in  front  of  the  place  told 
me  I  had  reached  the  town  of  Grice — containing 
three  or  four  small  dwellings,  one  store  and  a 
town  pump;  the  place  is  hardly  on  the  map, 
though  it  was  a  boon  to  me  just  now. 

On  entering  the  store  I  was  surprised  to  find  a 
good  number  of  people  trading,  notwithstanding 
the  fact  it  was  Sunday. 

Several  darkies  were  in  the  place,  and  calling 
one  of  them  outside,  we  headed  for  the  pump. 

'^Been  hoboing?"  asked  the  darkey,  beginning 
to  pumj)  water  for  me  to  wash. 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  not  relishing  his  familiarity, 
"I'm  going  down  to  Florida." 

Now  its  a  fact,  though  not  generally  known, 
that  between  South  Carolina  and  Florida,  both 
being  warm  sections,  a  good  manj^  of  the  colored 
gentry  are  continually  traveling  back  and  forth 
the  year  round,  but  very  little,  if  any,  of  this 
migration  reaches  up  to  North  Carolina  or  Vir- 
ginia. 

"I'm  going  South  myself  to-night,"  said  the 
darkey.     "Can't  I  go  along  with  you?" 

My  ablutions  ceased. 

"Say  that  over  again,  my  man.  Did  you  want 
to  go  with  me,  you  say?" 

He  was  a  large,  powerfully  built  fellow,  with 
a  face  calculated  to  give  a  timid  man  chills,  and 
that  the  suggestion  frightened  me,  I  must  admit, 
for  suppose  he  attacked  me  during  the  night. 


to  Southern  California.  33 

tliiuking  I  had  money  with  me.  Creepy  sensa- 
tions began  to  steal  over  me,  and  yet  it  will  be 
better  than  being  alone,  I  thought. 

^'I  know  the  ropes  pretty  well,  young  feller,'' 
he  added. 

This  settled  it,  for  I  did  not  know  the  "ropes," 
as  he  expressed  it. 

"You  may  go  with  me,"  I  said. 

I  was  dying  for  some  kind  of  companionship, 
and  being  the  possessor  of  unusually  good 
strength  myself,  as  a  result  of  years  of  physical 
culture,  I  saw  no  serious  cause  for  fearing  my 
formidable  looking  companion,  providing  I  could 
keep  awake  during  the  night,  so,  purchasing  a 
bite  to  eat  at  the  store  and  some  smoking  tobacco 
for  my  colored  friend,  we  began  to  discuss  a  plan 
of  action. 

"We'll  have  to  go  back  to  Chadbourn  and  lay 
for  a  late  freight  to-night,"  said  he,  "for  the  trains 
seldom  stop  in  Grice." 

I  was  afraid  the  authorities  of  the  town  would 
nab  me,  but  he  only  laughed  at  my  timidity. 

We  left  Grice  about  8  p.  m.  and  set  out  for 
Chadbourn,  some  three  miles  off.  We  had  gone 
perhaps  a  mile  on  the  return  journey  when  I  ob- 
served another  darkey  leading  up  a  close  rear.  I 
didn't  like  this  for  a  cent,  however  I  kept  quiet, 
and  our  dusky  follower  soon  came  up  quite  close. 

My  grandfather,  Dr.  Hicks,  of  Rocky  Mount, 


34  From  North  Carolina 

N.  C,  famous  for  his  writings  and  adventures  of 
Civil  War  life,  has  many  a  time  illustrated  to  me 
where  strategem  is  better  than  strength. 

On  one  occasion,  when  he  was  a  young  man,  he 
Avas  proceeding  along  a  lonely  country  road.  It 
was  nearly  dark  and  several  miles  to  the  nearest 
house,  and  in  those  days  houses  were  scarce  and 
the  people  were  more  lawless,  and,  suddenly,  a 
thick  set,  fierce  looking  man,  holding  a  stout  cud- 
gel in  his  hand,  emerged  from  the  dense  woods, 
which  were  on  either  side  of  the  road,  and  began 
quickly  to  overtake  him.  That  my  grandfather 
was  pretty  well  scared  can  well  be  imagined,  but 
being  a  ventriloquist  and  full  of  tricks,  he  soon 
dispatched  his  enemy.  Glancing  into  the  woods 
nearby,  he  shouted :  ^'Come  on  Jim !"  then  using 
his  powers  of  ventriloquism,  a  hoarse  voice  close 
at  hand  seemed  to  say,  '^All  right,  be  there  in  a 
minute.'' 

The  next  moment  the  man  who  had  been  fol- 
lowing him  plunged  deep  into  the  forest  and 
grandfather  was  left  to  proceed  alone. 

That  these  two  men  were  in  collusion  and  had 
designs  on  robbing  me  I  now  felt  convinced. 

Our  late  addition  had  drawn  up  dangerously 
close. 

It  was  pitch  dark,  and  evidently  he  was  una- 
ware I  had  discovered  his  presence  in  the  party, 
and  the  other  fellow  was  exerting  himself  about 
this  time  to  keep  me  entertained  with  stories  of 
^^hobo"  life. 


to  Southern  California,  35 

It  was  up  to  me  to  use  strategem,  and  use  it 
quick ! 

^^Confound  the  luck!"  I  exclaimed,  ^'I  forgot 
those  pistol  balls  back  at  the  store,  but  it  is  all 
right,  Bill" — Bill  was  the  name  he  had  called 
himself  at  the  pump — ^^my  little  Iver  Johnson  is 
full  loaded,  and  good  for  at  least  five  brakemen. 
Ha  I  ha !  ha !  they  had  better  let  us  go  through  to 
Florence,  I  guess." 

Most  darkies  are  afraid  of  a  gun  in  a  white 
man's  hand,  and  these  were  no  exceptions. 

The  third  man  was  not  long  in  speaking  out, 
and  as  if  he  had  just  joined  us. 

^^Howdy,  gentlemen,"  w^as  the  expressive  salu- 
tation, "going  over  to  Chadbourn?" 

"Yes,"  I  retorted. 

"We's  gwyne  down  to  Florida,"  supplemented 
Bill. 

"Dat's  strange,  I'se  gwyne  dat  way  myself," 
muttered  the  darkey,  "let  me  go  too." 

"We  don't  own  de  roads,"  shrewdly  observed 
the  man  named  Bill. 

"Well,  I'll  go  den,"  declared  the  newcomer,  and 
thus  they  arranged  it  to  suit  themselves,  and  I 
said  nothing,  though  I  mentally  concluded  to 
shift  them  both  at  the  first  opportunity. 

One  at  a  time  we  filed  across  the  main  street  of 
Chadbourn  an  hour  later,  and,  undiscovered, 
made  our  way  to  a  large  pile  of  railroad  ties  some 
two  hundred  yards  from  the  depot. 


36  From  North  Carolina 

The  darkies,  unconcerned,  stretched  out  fulJ 
length  upon  the  timber,  and  their  heavy  snoring 
soon  denoted  that  they  had  passed  into  the  land 
of  dreams,  but  their  lively*  trombone  music 
quickly  became  disgusting,  forcing  me  to  seek 
another  pile  of  the  timber  for  rest. 

My  thoughts  drifted  back  several  years  to  the 
scores  of  positions  and  hundreds  of  places  I  had 
been  in,  but  none  ranked  so  low  as  this;  and 
again,  thoughts  of  the  warm,  comfortable  home 
I  had  left  stole  over  me. 

About  midnight  my  reveries  were  disturbed  by 
the  labored  puffing  of  a  heavy  laden  freight  train, 
which  had  just  begun  to  ascend  the  long  grade 
outside  of  Chadbourn. 

My  companions  were  awakened  and  had  silently 
joined  me  in  the  darkness.  The  train  had  pulled 
up  the  grade  now  and  the  cars  had  attained  a 
dangerous  speed. 

As  the  engine  dashed  by,  my  companions  came 
near  knocking  me  down  in  their  greedy  endeavor 
to  secure  the  handles  of  the  first  two  cars  from 
the  engine. 

With  the  throttle  open  a  car's  length  is  a  se- 
rious matter  to  the  man  on  the  ground,  but  I 
caught  the  third  car  safely  and  climbed  aboard. 

Chadbourn  was  left  like  a  flash,  and  a  few  mo- 
ments later  we  went  hurling  through  Grice  like 
a  shot  out  of  a  gun. 

The  train  was  a  through  freight,  and  we  were 
bound  for  Florence. 


to  Southern  California.  37 

Crawling  back  on  my  hands  and  knees  through 
the  darkness  several  car  lengths,  I  found  an 
empty  coal  car.  In  this  car  I  would  be  shielded 
from  most  of  the  cold  wind,  which  was  blowing  at 
a  terrific  rate  over  the  top  of  the  train. 

Carefully  descending  to  the  car  and  peering 
over  the  edge  I  was  surprised  to  find  another  pas- 
senger, a  mild  looking  mulatto,  who,  upon  find- 
ing that  I  was  not  a  brakeman,  as  he  at  first  had 
supposed,  became  quite  sociable. 

^'I'm  also  bound  for  Jacksonville,"  said  he, 
"and  we'll  go  along  together." 

The  proposal  suited  me  to  a  T,  as  he  added  that 
he  was  an  expert  at  the  business,  having  been 
over  the  same  road  several  times  before,  and 
knew  every  move  to  make  to  avoid  being 
^'nabbed." 

The  other  two  men  now  got  into  the  car,  at 
which  the  mulatto  immediately  drew  off  to  the 
opposite  end. 

"Two  together  is  safer,"  he  said,  as  I  joined 
him. 

A  drizzling  rain  set  in  and  we  were  left  to  our- 
selves. 

"What  have  you  got  there?"  he  asked,  some 
hours  later,  stumbling  against  my  paper  bundles. 

"Medicine  and  clothes,"  I  retorted.  He  laughed. 

"You'll  never  get  to  Jacksonville  with  all  that 
truck,"  he  said.     "You'd  better  get  clear  of  it." 


38  From  ^orth  Carolina 

So  far  my  baggage  had  been  a  source  of  con- 
stant annoyance,  and  I,  therefore,  readily  agreed 
to  part  with  it. 

It  had  ceased  raining  now,  and  the  dim  light 
in  the  east  told  of  the  near  approach  of  day. 

The  lights  of  Florence  could  be  seen  faintly 
gleaming  in  the  distance  as  we  rapidly  drew  near, 
and  there  w^as  no  time  to  lose,  so  throwing  off 
coat,  shoes  and  hat,  I  quickly  tore  open  both 
bundles,  and  out  in  a  heap  rolled  shirts,  collars, 
socks,  photographs,  cough  syrup,  quick  asthma 
cures — but  space  forbids  naming  all  the  things. 

The  bundles  had  been  carefully  packed  by  a 
loving  mother,  who  had  thoughtfully  placed  in 
one  of  them  a  small  Bible.  I  felt  better  as  I 
placed  the  little  book  in  an  inside  pocket,  and  I 
would  read  it  and  daily  pray  to  God  to  take  me 
safely  through  the  long  journey  before  me. 

My  next  move  was  to  astonish  the  negro  at  the 
number  of  shirts  and  socks  I  got  into. 

^Tut  on  all  you  can  and  be  quick,"  I  exclaimed, 
in  answer  to  his  questioning  gaze. 

He  needed  no  second  invitation,  and  I  now  be- 
gan to  stuff  my  pockets  with  the  smaller  things, 
again  inviting  him  to  follow  suit.  About  the  first 
thing  he  grabbed  up  was  a  $1.50  razor,  which  I 
politely  deprived  him  of. 

Within  a  few  minutes  the  train  slackened  speed 
and  pulled  into  the  yards. 


to  Southern  California.  39 

Quickly  alighting  and  bidding  me  to  follow, 
the  negro  made  off  from  the  tracks  at  full  speed. 

At  first  I  thought  he  was  running  away  with 
my  things,  but  the  wisdom  of  the  move  was  soon 
apparent,  for  at  a  safe  distance,  he  pointed  out 
to  me  two  slow  moving  lights  going  up  and  down 
both  sides  of  the  train  we  had  just  deserted. 

^'Spotters,"  he  whispered,  breathing  heavily. 

I  realized  then  just  how  green  I  was  at  the  pro- 
fession of  hoboing.  Undoubtedly  I  would  have 
again  been  picked  up,  and  this  time  it  might  not 
have  gone  so  easily  with  me  as  at  Chadbourn. 

For  nearly  an  hour  we  walked  about  the  streets 
of  Florence  looking  for  a  restaurant,  but  it  was 
yet  too  early  for  them  to  open,  and,  disappointed, 
we  returned  to  the  railroad  yards. 

Two  or  three  trains  were  beginning  to  pull  out 
when  we  arrived. 

Plunging  between  two  long  freights,  and  walk- 
ing rapidly,  my  companion  began  to  scan  the  car 
doors. 

^'In  here,"  he  presently  whispered,  drawing  up 
before  an  empty  car.  ^^This  is  the  Junction  train, 
and  will  leave  in  a  few  minutes." 

Afraid  of  going  wrong  and  being  pretty  well 
frightened,  I  hesitated. 

^'What  Junction?  Are  you  sure  this  is  the 
right  train?"  I  questioned,  fearing  the  cars  might 
be  made  up  for  Atlanta  or  Columbia. 

His  reply  was  to  furtively  glance  up  and  down 


40  From  No7^th  Carolina 

the  tracks,  and  the  next  instant  he  had  vanished 
through  the  half  open  door.  Greatly  frightened, 
I  followed. 

Quickly  and  silently  we  closed  the  door,  leav- 
ing us  in  impenetrable  darkness. 

It  was  not  long  before  an  engine  bumped 
against  the  cars,  and  shortly  after  we  pulled  out. 

The  day  dawned  beautiful  and  clear,  and  be- 
ing warm,  we  opened  the  car  door  to  enjoy  the 
sunshine. 

We  had  gone  some  fifty  or  sixty  miles  down  the 
road,  perhaps,  when  the  mulatto  declared  his  in- 
tention of  getting  out  to  buy  something  to  eat. 

'^You  had  better  stay  in  here,"  I  called,  but  the 
next  moment  he  was  gone. 

To  my  dismay  a  few  minutes  later  the  train 
slowly  began  to  move  off,  then  faster  and  faster. 

Downhearted,  I  sat  down  in  the  end  of  the  car 
alone.  The  wheels  began  to  roar  and  sing  with 
increasing  speed.  Once  more  I  cast  a  last  despair- 
ing glance  at  the  door.  Suddenly  a  hand  was 
thrust  into  the  opening!  In  a  flash  it  had  dis- 
appeared. 

Rushing  to  the  door  and  looking  out  I  was  hor- 
rified to  see  the  man  who  had  lately  left  me  lying 
helpless,  stretched  upon  the  ground. 

No  doubt,  in  jumping  he  had  miscalculated  the 
position  of  the  rod  under  the  door,  and  as  a  result 
of  the  misstep,  had  been  thrown  from  the  car 
with  considerable  force. 


to  Southern  California.  41 

Being  umisuallY  intelligent,  and  of  a  quiet  kind 
of  dispositicm,  I  had  taken  quite  a  fancy  to  the 
fellow  by  this  time,  and  it  was  with  a  sigh  of  gen- 
uine relief  I  noted  he  had  not  been  run  over, 

Struggling  to  his  feet  with  one  hand  pressed 
against  his  head,  he  waved  to  me  for  a  moment 
and  then  slowly  staggered  off  the  pathway  of  the 
track. 

The  man  who  had  claimed  to  be  an  ^^expert" 
was  left,  and  I  was  soon  miles  aw^ay,  but  such  is 
life. 

Going  back  into  the  car,  and  being  exhausted 
from  hunger,  I  soon  fell  asleep. 

My  last  conscious  thought  was  a  desire  to  wake 
up  in  Savannah,  Ga. 

Two  hours  later  it  would  be  time  to  change 
trains  at  Charleston  Junction  for  Savannah,  but 
being  blissfully  ignorant  of  this  fact,  my  slum- 
bers were  undisturbed. 

I  slept  long  and  sound — then  with  a  start 
awoke. 

The  car  was  no  longer  moving.  I  listened  in- 
tently for  a  brakeman,  but  the  grave-like  silence 
was  unbroken.  Darkness  had  long  since  settled 
down.  Now  fully  awake  and  being  of  a  logical 
turn  of  mind,  I  began  to  speculate.  Evidently, 
we  had  run  into  Savannah  late  at  night  and  were 
now  in  the  train  yards.  Noiselessly  I  tiptoed  to 
the  door — imitating  my  late  companion — and 
Avith  great  caution  poked  my  head  out. 


42 


F)om  North  Carolina 


'Surely  my  hunger  must  be  causing  some  horrible  nightmare — ' 


to  Southern  California.  43 

The  moon  was  just  rising  from  behind  a  dis- 
tant cloud-bank. 

Surely  my  hunger  must  be  causing  some  hor- 
rible nightmare,  and  directly  in  front  of  me  was 
a  large  cabbage  patch — the  largest  I  had  ever 
seen,  in  fact. 

Countless  thousands  of  cabbage  were  growing 
on  every  hand,  and  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach 
large  nice  ones  they  were,  too,  some  of  them  grow- 
ino;  so  close  to  the  railroad  track  as  to  be  almost 
under  my  feet. 

I  had  eaten  but  once  since  my  arrival  in  Wil- 
mington Saturday  night  from  Southport,  and  it 
was  now  Monday  night. 

I  ceased  to  remember  I  was  trying  to  reach  Sa- 
vannah, nor  did  I  speculate  long  as  to  the  reality 
of  the  vision  before  me. 

Springing  from  the  car  door  into  the  patch,  I 
sat  down  before  one  of  the  largest  of  the  vege- 
tables and  had  eaten  nearly  half  of  it  when  I 
heard  some  one  approaching. 

With  a  guilty  start  I  sprang  to  the  railroad 
track. 

Now  would  be  a  good  time  to  locate  my  posi- 
tion. 

The  man  soon  came  up. 

"Hello !  my  friend,  how  far  is  it  to  Savannah?'' 
I  asked. 

^^About  150  miles,  sir,"  said  the  man  looking  at 
me  curiouslv. 


44  From  North  Carolina 

The  truth  dawned  upon  me  instantly,  while 
sleeping  I  had  been  switched  off  on  the  wrong 
road. 

The  man  started  down  the  track. 

"Say,  hold  on  there  a  minute !"  I  cried.  "How 
far  is  it  to  Charleston  Junction?" 

''Fortj-seyen  miles,"  replied  the  man. 

"Well,  how  far  is  it  to  the  next  town,  then?" 

The  fellow's  short  answers  were  exasperating 
in  the  extreme. 

"Three  miles,"  he  hollered,  fast  getting  out  of 
ear  shot. 

I  must  confess  I  completely  lost  temper. 

Making  a  trumpet  of  my  hands,  I  shouted : 

"I  say,  you  escaped  lunatic,  what  is  the  name 
of  the  town?" 

"Meggetts,"  came  back  the  faint  reply,  and  the 
man  passed  out  of  range. 

The  solution  of  the  problem  was  now  easy. 
Xot  knowing  I  must  change  trains  at  Charleston 
Junction,  I  had  been  carried  forty-seyen  miles 
out  of  my  way  down  a  branch  road. 

Twenty-four  empty  box- cars  had  been  side- 
tracked to  be  loaded  with  cabbage,  and  I  had 
been  in  one  of  the  cars. 

After  an  hour's  walk  I  arriyed  at  Meggetts.  It 
was  near  11  p.  m.,  though  all  the  stores,  fiye,  I 
think,  were  open. 

Appeasing  my  hunger  at  a  small  restaurant  in 
the  place,  I  had  just  |1.05  of  the  original  |4.00  I 
had  left  home  with. 


to  Southern  California.  45 

Upon  inquiry,  I  found  that  a  freight  would 
leave  Meggetts  at  2  a.  m.  that  night  bound  for  the 
North. 

The  train  was  loaded  with  early  vegetables, 
and  I  was  told  would  make  a  short  stay  at  the 
Junction. 

Eighteen  colored  men,  w^hose  homes  were  in 
Charleston,  boarded  the  train  that  night  when  I 
did.  The  men  had  been  sent  down  from  Charles- 
ton to  help  load  the  train. 

The  brakemen,  whose  instructions  were  to  let 
the  men  ride  free  kept  to  themselves  on  the  train, 
and  without  stop  we  ran  back  to  the  Junction. 
The  men  clamored  down  and  were  soon  walking 
the  remaining  few  miles  to  their  homes. 

There  are  several  tracks  at  Charleston  Junc- 
tion, but  before  departing  the  men  showed  me  the 
track  leading  to  Savannah. 

About  daylight  a  freight  pulled  upon  this  track 
and  came  to  a  short  standstill. 

Once  more  I  was  fortunate  in  finding  an  empty 
car,  and  getting  into  it  unobserved. 

I  was  not  absolutely  sure  the  darkies  had  not 
deceived  me,  but  then  a  man  beating  the  roads 
has  got  to  take  all  kinds  of  chances,  and  I  was 
fast  learning  the  fact. 

At  noon  that  day  I  arrived  safely  in  Savannah, 
that  is  to  say,  I  arrived  within  a  mile  of  the  town 
proper,  where  I  ran  the  risk  of  breaking  my  neck 
by  jumping  off,  but  that  was  much  better  than 


46  From  Islorth  Carolina 

being  pulled  into  the  yards  in  broad  open  day- 
light to  be  arrested. 

There  is  one  thing  peculiar  about  Savannah, 
which  can't  fail  to  impress  a  stranger  on  his  first 
visit.  For  the  size  of  the  town,  I  think  it  con- 
tains three  times  as  many  colored  people  as  any 
other  city  in  the  United  States. 

That  afternoon  I  found  the  time  to  read  a  chap- 
ter in  the  little  Bible  my  mother  had  given  me. 
I  shall  always  believe  it  was  the  work  of  a  kind 
Providence  that  sent  me  upon  the  streets  of  Sa- 
vannah that  night  in  quest  of  some  one  to  go  with 
me  to  Jacksonville.  Luckily  for  me  this  time  too, 
as  subsequent  events  will  prove. 

It  was  past  midnight.  Again  my  conveyance 
was  a  freight  train ;  this  time  bound  for  Jackson- 
ville, Fla.,  and  again  I  had  a  darkey  for  a  travel- 
ing companion. 

We  boarded  the  freight  one  mile  from  the  city 
limits  at  a  slow-down  crossing.  There  was  no 
empty  car  to  get  into  and  the  only  other  place 
was  on  the  end  of  a  loaded  flat-car,  where  we 
were  shielded  somewhat  from  the  cold  winds 
blowing  over  the  train. 

The  rain  was  coming  down  in  a  steady  down- 
pour, and  had  been  for  two  hours  or  more. 

We  were  still  standing  close  together  on  the 
end  of  the  car,  and  had  entered  Northern  Florida, 
and  lying  or  sitting  down  in  the  rain  would  have 
been  courting  death  of  cold.     There  was  nothing 


to  Southern  California.  47 

to  do  but  stand  up  and  take  our  medicine  quietly. 
The  cold  winds  had  chilled  us  to  the  very  marrow. 
Weak  and  faint  from  the  loss  of  food  and  sleep, 
and  from  the  high  nervous  strain  I  had  been  sub- 
jected to,  I  was  fast  becoming  insensible. 

I  forgot  that  I  was  standing  on  the  end  of  a 
wildly  rocking  flat-car  rushing  through  inky  dark- 
ness at  the  rate  of  forty  miles  an  hour.  The  dan- 
ger seemed  fading  away  now,  and  I  imagined  I 
was  home  again  resting  in  my  own  comfortable 
bed.  The  limit  of  human  endurance  had  been 
reached,  and  poor,  exhausted  nature  gave  up  the 
battle. 

Slowly  my  eyes  closed.  "It  will  be  for  just  one 
sweet  moment,  just  one,"  I  promised,  and  the 
next  instant  I  was  fast  asleep. 

Two  rough  hands  reached  out  and  encircled  me 
about  the  waist  just  as  I  was  toppling  between 
the  swift  running  cars,  and  drew  me  back  to 
safety. 

"Good  God !  young  feller,  don't  trifle  wid  your 
life  like  dat,"  exclaimed  the  frightened  darkey. 

In  a  vague  way  I  realized  my  danger  and  prom- 
ised to  do  better,  but  I  was  too  sleepy  to  be  much 
frightened,  and  inside  of  a  half  an  hour  I  had 
again  closed  my  eyes,  promising  not  to  go  to 
sleep,  but  the  promise  was  broken,  and  once  more 
I  was  indebted  to  the  faithful  colored  man  for 
saving  my  life. 


4S 


From  North  Carolina 


"Good  God!   young  feller,  don't  tiitle  wid  your  life  like  dat," 
exclaimed  the  frightened  darky. 


to  Southern  California.  49 

It  was  now  breaking  day  and  the  train  was 
slackening  speed.  The  next  stop  was  Woodbine, 
Fla. 

Here  the  conductor  discovered  us  and  we  were 
put  off. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  stores  opened  up. 
There  are  but  two  or  three  stores  in  Woodbine, 
though  one  of  them  is  a  very  large  one.  It  was 
in  this  store  we  got  something  to  eat. 

A  young  lady  waited  on  us,  who  informed  me 
that  Jacksonville  was  forty-nine  miles  away. 

Guessing  our  intention,  she  remarked:  "You 
can't  walk  it,  for  twelve  miles  from  here  is  a 
long  trestle,  which  is  patrolled  by  a  man  with  a 
Winchester  rifle.  He  is  in  the  employ  of  the 
government  and  it's  his  duty  to  see  that  no  one 
crosses  over  on  foot.  Every  twelve  hours  he  is 
relieved  by  a  man  who  watches  the  bridge  at 
night." 

"When  is  the  next  freight  due?''  I  asked. 

"To-morrow  morning,"  was  the  reply,  "it's  the 
same  one  you  just  got  off," 

Things  were  beginning  to  assume  a  gloomy 
aspect. 

"Is  there  a  ferry?"  I  asked,  brightening  up. 

"There  was  so  little  travel  the  ferry  was  aban- 
doned over  a  year  ago,"  replied  the  young  lady. 

"Well,  good-bye;  if  there  is  no  other  way,  we'll 
have  it  to  swim." 

We  had  gone  probably  a  mile  down  the  track 
4 


50  From  North  Carofma 

and  had  begun  to  look  out  for  a  place  to  put  in  a 
few  hours  sleep,  when  looking  back,  I  was  over- 
joyed to  discover  a  hand-car  rapidly  overtak- 
ing us. 

Stepping  into  the  middle  of  the  track  I  sig- 
nalled the  car  to  stop. 

^^Hello,  captain!  we  want  to  help  you  peddle 
that  car  across  the  bridge.     Do  you  go  that  far?" 

^^Yes,  I'm  the  track  inspector,  and  go  as  far  as 
Jacksonville,"  was  the  reply. 

"Let  us  go?"  I  questioned. 

^^I  don't  know ;  I  need  two  more  men,  but  white 
men,  as  a  rule,  are  no  good  peddling  these  cars  on 
a  long  run,"  was  the  retort. 

^'I'm  as  strong  as  either  of  the  two  men  now 
propelling  you,  sir,"  and,  to  prove  the  assertion, 
I  rolled  up  my  sleeve. 

The  man's  eyes  opened  wide  in  astonishment, 
for  notwithstanding  I'm  an  asthma  sufferer,  his 
gaze  rested  on  an  arm  that  had  undergone  five 
years  of  hard  physical  culture  training. 

"You  may  go,"  he  said,  "and  I'm  glad  to  get 
you." 

We  passed  the  man  with  the  Winchester  rifle 
safely,  and  at  3  p.  m.  I  got  off  in  the  suburbs 
of  Jacksonville,  parting  with  the  darkey,  who  is 
the  right  owner  of  the  reward  offered  in  the  front 
pages  of  this  book,  and  whom  the  track  inspector 
had  engaged  for  railroad  work  at  $1.00  per  day. 

It  was  nearly  two  miles  down  town,  and  being 


to  Southern  California,  51 

fatigued  from  my  recent  exertions,  I  invested  five 
cents  in  a  street  car  ride. 

The  car  was  full  of  gaily  dressed  people,  white 
heing  the  prominent  color,  all  of  whom  seemed 
bent  upon  some  kind  of  pleasure,  judging  from 
their  happy  faces. 

Race  prejudice  is  strong  here.  Half  the  car 
was  devoted  to  the  white  passengers  and  the  other 
half  to  the  colored,  and  is  rigidly  enforced. 

The  gay  costumes  on  the  streets,  and  the  brisk, 
business-like  air  of  the  people,  next  attracted  my 
attention.  Nearly  all  of  the  streets  are  broad 
and  well  paved^  and  some  of  the  business  blocks 
remind  one  of  Baltimore,  Md.  The  whole  scene 
was  an  entire  surprise  to  me.  But  what  im- 
pressed me  more  than  all  else  was  the  long  line  of 
beautiful  palms,  extending  quite  close  on  either 
side  of  the  street  car  line. 


52  From  North  Carolina 


CHAPTER  IV. 

*'Look  Out  for  Hoodlums" — Retribution  for  De- 
ception— stranded  in  'New  Orleans — Meet  mth 
Kind  Hearts. 

I  left  the  car  at  a  point  near  the  Clyde  Line 
docks,  and  shortly  after  succeeded  in  finding 
William  Marine — Archie  Marine's  brother — who 
informed  me  that  the  boats  were  no  longer  run- 
ning between  Jacksonville  and  Gulf  points. 

"There's  but  one  way  I  could  help  you,  young 
fellow.  If  you  desire,  I'll  get  you  on  a  boat,  as 
a  cook's  assistant,  that  will  take  you  to  New  York 
City,  from  which  point  you  might  be  able  to  work 
your  way  to  San  Francisco  on  an  ocean  liner." 

''I  thank  you,  but  will  risk  working  my  way 
overland,"  I  replied,  and  left  the  wharf. 

Sometime  during  the  afternoon  I  smeared 
nearly  a  whole  bottle  of  vaseline  upon  my  face 
and  neck,  which  had  begun  to  burn  like  fire,  as  a 
result  of  my  exposure  to  the  sun  while  peddling 
the  hand-car. 

At  9  p.  m.  that  night  I  made  my  way  to  the 
Union  Depot.  Some  five  or  six  passenger  trains 
w^ere  under  the  shed.  A  man  in  the  crowd  pointed 
out  to  me  the  train  he  thought  was  bound  for 


New  Orleans. 

Five  minutes  later  I  was  in  the  express  car. 
A  pleasant  looking  young  man,  I  should  say 


to  Southern  California.  53 

about  twenty-two  years  of  age,  was  checking  off 
the  express,  assisted  by  an  older  gentleman. 

^^Does  this  train  go  to  New  Orleans?"  I  asked, 
lowering  my  voice  to  a  whisper. 

'^No,  it  goes  to  Montgomery,'^  replied  the  young 
man,  eyeing  me  closely  for  a  moment,  and  then 
turning  to  his  work. 

^^May  I  go  with  you  to  Montgomery?''  I  whis- 
pered. 

The  young  man  again  glanced  at  me,  but  vouch- 
safed no  reply. 

Though  not  well  known,  it's  no  less  a  fact  that 
most  roads  of  the  United  States  to-day  employ 
numerous  detectives — known  as  ^spotters' — who 
travel  over  the  road  in  various  disguises,  and 
whose  business  it  is  to  discover  any  employee  of 
the  road  assisting  some  poor  chap  to  beat  the 
train. 

Sometimes  the  detective  thus  employed  dresses 
himself  like  a  tramp  or  hobo  and  appeals  to  the 
engineer,  baggageman  or  conductor  to  help  him 
get  to  a  certain  point. 

Woe  be  unto  the  kindhearted  employee  who 
does  help  him,  for  a  few  days  later  he  is  dis- 
charged almost  without  notice. 

Later  on  he  finds  that  his  goodness  of  heart  was 
bestowed  upon  a  railroad  detective.  Those  who 
understand  this  can  more  easily  appreciate  my 
present  difficulty. 

Desperate  diseases  require  desperate  remedies ; 


54  From  North  Carolina 

and  I  hereby  admit  that  I  told  the  express  mes- 
senger a  falsehood. 

There  was  little  time  to  lose.  Every  moment 
the  express  packages  were  being  hurled  through 
the  door,  and  the  train  would  soon  be  ready  to 
depart  on  its  long  four  hundred  mile  journey. 

^'I  can  show  positive  proof,  in  the  way  of  let- 
ters, etc.,  that  I'm  no  ^spotter,' ''  I  whispered. 
"For  Heaven's  sake  don't  refuse,  old  man.  My 
parents  formerly  lived  in  North  Carolina,  as  the 
heading  of  this  reference  shows,  but  years  ago 
they  moved  to  Texas,  and  I  went  to  New  York. 
My  parents  are  poor  and  I'm  their  only  support. 
Having  been  robbed  in  New  York  and  learning 
by  letter  that  my  mother  is  near  death's  door, 
I've  decided  to  work  my  way  to  her.  Pardon  me 
saying  it;  you  look  to  be  a  pretty  square  sort  of 
fellow.  Please  don't  refuse  the  chap  who  stands 
before  you  down  and  out  this  time." 

The  work  of  checking  up  had  been  finished, 
and  the  elderly  man,  after  whispering  something 
in  the  young  express  messenger's  ear,  crawled  out 
of  the  car  door  to  the  ground. 

A  moment  later  the  door  shut  with  a  bang. 

I  had  succeeded,  and  five  minutes  later  was 
again  traveling  up  the  road  without  a  ticket. 

I've  confessed  to  telling  a  lie,  and  I  must  now 
confess  to  having  acted  the  part  of  a  fool. 

I  had  been  sleeping  on  some  express  packages 
in  the  forward  end  of  the  car,  and  upon  awaken- 
ing glanced  at  my  watch.     It  was  4  a.  m. 


to  Southern  California.  55 

Throughout  the  night  the  train  had  been  run- 
ning at  a  high  rate  of  speed  and  I  figured  we 
ought  to  be  somewhere  near  Montgomery. 

It'll  be  a  great  joke  to  tell  him  where  my  home 
really  is,  and  to  let  him  know^  how  I  fooled  him, 
for  being  near  Montgomery,  he'll  hardly  trouble 
to  put  me  down  anyway  now,  I  reasoned,  and 
without  thinking,  I  gave  him  the  whole  story  of 
just  how  neatly  I  had  deceived  him. 

Instantly  the  young  man's  manner  changed. 

'^So  you  fooled  me,  eh !  Well,  the  next  stop  is 
Valdosta,  Ga.  You'll  have  to  get  off  there,"  was 
the  sharp  retort. 

A  half  hour  later  I  was  walking  the  streets  of 
Valdosta,  a  much  wiser  man. 

How  true  is  the  old  saying :  ^^A  wise  man  keeps 
his  tongue  in  his  heart,  but  a  fool  keeps  it  in  his 
mouth." 

It  was  near  daylight  and  bitter  cold.  A  night 
cop  directed  me  to  a  lodging  house.  After  I  had 
rung  the  bell  several  times  the  landlady  appeared. 
She  had  hastily  dressed  and,  with  a  frown  on  her 
face,  stood  shivering  in  the  cold. 

''Madam,  have  you  any  vacant  rooms?" 

''You  might  share  a  room  with  my  son,"  she  re- 
plied hurriedly. 

"Thank  you  ever  so  much.  What  will  it  cost?" 
I  asked. 

^'Twenty-five  cents,"  was  the  pistol-like  retort. 
'^Do  you  want  the  room?" 


56  From  North  Carolina 

"1  now  got  to  tbe  point. 

^^Madam,  the  night  is  most  over,  and  my  money 
is  low;  would  you  accept  15  cents  for  the  rest  of 
the  night?'' 

"I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  let  you  in,"  she  said. 

Five  minutes  later  I  had  waked  up  her  son, 
who  began  saying  uncomfortable  things  about 
some  people  coming  in  at  all  times  of  the  night; 
but  the  remainder  of  his  remarks  fell  on  deaf 
ears,  for  I  was  fast  asleep. 

It  was  the  first  bed  I  had  been  in  since  leaving 
home. 

About  10  a.  m.  I  awoke  much  refreshed. 

The  depot  was  close  by,  and  the  ticket  agent  in- 
formed me  that  the  train  bound  for  Madison,  Fla., 
would  pull  out  in  a  few  minutes. 

The  fare  from  Yaldosta  to  Madison  is  eisfhtv- 
five  cents,  and  I  only  had  sixty  cents. 

Acting  upon  the  impulse  I  boarded  the  train 
without  purchasing  a  ticket. 

Madison  is  on  the  main  line  between  Jackson- 
ville and  Pensacola,  and  would,  therefore,  afford 
a  better  opportunity  to  catch  a  west-bound  train 
than  if  I  went  to  Montgomery. 

In  due  time  I  was  confronted  by  the  conductor. 

^^How  much  to  Madison?"  I  asked,  feeling  in 
my  pockets. 

^^Eighty-five  cents,"  said  the  conductor. 

"I  haven't  but  00  cents,  conductor ;  carry  me  as 
far  as  you  can  for  that,  and  I'll  walk  the  rest  of 
the  distance." 


to  Southern  California.  57 

A  well-dressed  young  man  looked  up. 

^'If  you'll  pardon  me,  I'll  loan  you  50  cents," 
said  he. 

^'If  you'll  provide  me  with  an  address  to  which 
I  can  return  the  amount,  I'll  accept  with  thanks," 
I  replied. 

Taking  my  book  he  wrote  down,  J.  M.  Turner, 
Jr.,  Gainesville,  Fla.  ^^I'm  cigar  salesman  for  a 
Gainesville  house,"  he  said. 

About  this  time  another  passenger  spoke  out. 

^'I'll  loan  you  twenty-five  cents  myself,"  said 
he,  "if  vou  need  it." 

Without  loss  of  time  I  handed  over  my  book, 
and  he  wrote  down  R.  T.  Davis,  Hopewell,  Fla., 
and  handed  me  twenty-five  cents.  ( As  yet  I  have 
been  unable  to  locate  one  of  these  gentlemen  since 
returning  home.) 

Madison  is  the  Southern  terminal  of  the  road, 
and  at  this  point  I  left  the  train  in  company  with 
the  conductor,  who  invited  me  to  lunch. 

The  freight  bound  for  Tallahassee  pulled  into 
Madison  at  4  p.  m. 

I  had  no  trouble  in  enlisting  the  sympathy  of 
the  conductor,  a  very  genial  sort  of  fellow,  who 
told  me  to  go  back  to  the  caboose  and  keep  out  of 
sight  until  we  reached  Tallahassee. 

We  reached  the  capital  city  sometime  after 
dark. 

Here  are  a  few  points  about  Tallahassee  which 
are  in  great  contrast  to  Jacksonville. 


58  From  North  Carolina 

There  are  no  paved  streets  in  Tallahassee;  if 
so,  I  didn't  see  them.  They  are  all  ill-lighted — 
one  greasy  street  lamp  post  about  every  six 
blocks. 

Little  business.  In  fact,  one  store  out  of  every 
three  was  vacant — those  that  were  open  were  not 
selling  anything.  All  the  stores  are  on  one  big 
Main  street. 

A  street  car  line  was  started,  but  the  town 
couldn't  support  it,  and  it  went  to  smash. 

The  leaves  and  other  rubbish  had  collected 
upon  the  sidewalks  in  great  drifts. 

The  fine  dust  floating  in  the  air  came  near  giv- 
ing me  the  asthma,  and  with  a  feeling  of  relief  I 
wended  my  way  back  to  the  railroad  yards. 

To  keep  warm  that  night  I  helped  the  darkey 
fire  the  engine  at  the  ice  factory,  which  is  located 
near  the  depot,  until  10  p.  m.,  when  I  boarded  a 
freight  train  bound  for  Grand  River  Junction, 
ninety-nine  miles  away,  at  which  place  I  landed 
about  3  a.  m. 

The  next  division  was  a  stretch  of  a  hundred 
miles  or  more  from  the  Junction  to  Pensacola. 
This  was  the  L.  &  N.  road. 

I  have  since  learned  that  it  is  about  the  hardest 
road  in  the  United  States  to  beat.  No  long 
freights  pass  over  the  road — most  of  the  trains 
are  ^^mixed,"  that  is  to  say,  a  few  box-cars  and  a 
few  passenger  cars. 

On   this   night  the   train   for   Pensacola   had 


to  Southern  California.  59 

already  made  up.  It  consisted  of  two  or  three 
box-ears  and  the  same  number  of  passenger 
coaches. 

The  conductor  was  in  the  depot  working  on 
some  freight  bills,  when  I  approached  him,  re- 
questing permission  to  ride  on  the  ^^blind  bag- 
gage" to  Pensacola. 

^^The  same  old  story/'  said  he,  looking  up. 
"Sorry,  young  man,  but  we  can't  carry  you  on 
this  road." 

I  next  went  to  the  engineer,  and  there  met  with 
the  same  refusal. 

Then  to  the  express  car  I  hurried,  for  the  train 
would  soon  start;  but  again,  I  was  met  with  a 
rebuff. 

There  were  no  stores  in  sight,  and  few  houses. 
Surely  Grand  River  Junction  would  be  a  most 
dismal  place  to  get  left  in,  especially  in  my  con- 
dition— only  fifty  cents,  and  that  borrowed 
money. 

In  desperation  I  ran  to  the  front  part  of  the 
engine. 

In  the  intense  darkness,  both  fireman  and  engi- 
neer failed  to  observe  a  silent  form  spring  upon 
the  cow-catcher. 

The  wheels  began  to  revolve,  and  barring  all 
accidents,  I  was  due  to  reach  Pensacola  in  time 
for  dinner. 

Being  thinly  dressed  and  facing  the  damp 
night  winds  at  a  fifty-mile  an  hour  rate  is  cer- 
tainly not  an  enviable  position. 


60  From  No7^th  Carolina 

In  a  short  time  my  body  was  so  benumbed  with 
cold  I  could  scarcely  move.  Another  thing,  it 
would  soon  break  day,  and  unless  I  could  hide 
myself  better,  a  discovery  would  follow  and  I 
would  be  put  off. 

There's  an  old  saying,  which  I  afterwards 
learned : 

"To  hobo  the  roads  successfully,  one  has  to 
give  up  all  thought  of  life  or  death." 

That  continued  hardship  lessens  a  man's  fears 
of  death,  I  have  certainly  learned  by  personal  ex- 
perience. 

With  slow  deliberation,  I  worked  my  way 
under  the  boiler  of  the  engine,  and  among  the 
machinery.  At  last  I  was  stretched  out  full 
length  under  the  boiler,  with  only  one  foot  stick- 
ing out,  which  I  must  risk  being  seen.  The  boiler 
was  rather  warm,  of  course,  and  every  moment  I 
stayed  under  it  it  was  becoming  warmer.  Perspi- 
ration started  out  in  huge  drops.  In  running 
from  the  extreme  of  cold  I  had  met  the  extreme  of 
heat.  Only  a  few  moments  sufficed  to  thaw  me 
out  and  then  a  warm,  hot  time  began  in  earnest. 
My  clothes,  pressed  almost  against  the  boiler, 
would  become  so  hot  every  few  minutes  I  was 
forced  to  turn  over  upon  my  side  and  ride  for  a 
while ;  only  to  revert  to  the  original  position  and 
torture  again. 

Things  were  getting  unbearable. 

I  had  heard  of  hobos  riding  under  the  cow- 
catcher. 


to  Southern  California.  61 

Yes,  I  would  risk  it!  The  train  came  to  a 
standstill.  The  delay  would  hardly  be  a  long 
one,  for  it  was  only  a  cross-roads  station.  I 
would  have  to  work  with  lightning-like  rapidity. 
About  midway  the  boiler  was  an  opening  in  the 
machinery,  barely  large  enough  to  admit  the  pas- 
sage of  a  man.  Squeezing  through  this  opening, 
I  dropped  upon  the  cross-ties  under  the  engine. 
On  all-fours  I  made  my  way  along  the  track  to 
the  front  axle  of  the  engine,  which  I  passed  under. 
I  had  now  reached  the  cow-catcher,  but  my 
trouble  had  been  for  naught.  For  some  unex- 
plainable  reason  the  space  under  the  cow-catcher 
had  been  nailed  full  of  cross-beams,  thus  effec- 
tually barring  further  progress. 

Now,  fully  realizing  the  danger  of  my  position, 
a  sudden  fear  assailed  me,  and  I  began  tremb- 
ling from  head  to  foot. 

It  had  required  scarcely  thirty  seconds  to  make 
the  discovery,  and  within  the  same  minute  I  had 
turned  and  was  again  squeezing  under  the  ter- 
rible looking  axle. 

Clang!  clang!  sounded  the  engine  bell. 

Considerably  bruised  about  the  hands  and 
knees,  I  reached  the  opening  just  as  the  engine 
pushed  off. 

Securing  a  firm  grip  upon  a  piece  of  machinery 
above  the  opening,  and  taking  a  step  forward 
with  the  slowly  moving  engine,  I  drew  myself  up 
to  safety. 


62  From  North  Carolina 

About  8  a.  in.  we  reached  Chipley,  Fla. 

Here  the  station  agent  saw  me,  and  I  was 
pulled  down.  I  was  greasy  and  black,  and  my 
clothes  were  torn,  but  no  limbs  were  missing. 

The  conductor,  agent  and  others  came  hurry- 
ing to  the  engine  to  see  the  man  who  had  dared 
hobo  under  the  boiler. 

Chipley  is  a  fine  little  town  of  about  1,200  in- 
habitants, and  a  more  sociable  lot  of  people  I've 
never  met. 

It  was  soon  mouthed  about  the  streets  how  I 
reached  the  town,  and  for  a  time  I  was  the  cyno- 
sure of  all  eyes,  though  no  one  offered  to  arrest 
me. 

There  are  some  five  or  six  saw-mills  around 
Chipley.  About  two  miles  from  the  town  is  a 
large  saw-mill  and  brick  kiln  owned  by  J.  D.  Hall. 

A  young  merchant  of  the  town  informed  me 
that  Mr.  Hall  was  badly  in  need  of  labor  and  was 
paying  good  prices. 

Fven  to  hobo  the  roads,  a  man  needs  money, 
and  I  decided  to  stake  up  a  bit  before  continuing 
my  way. 

Sometime  before  noon  I  arrived  at  the  mill. 

Mr.  Hall  looked  me  over  quite  critically. 

"Did  you  ever  do  any  hard  labor?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  sir,"  I  untruthfully  replied,  for,  to  be 
candid,  I  had  never  done  a  day's  hard  work  in 
my  life. 


to  Southern  California.  63 

"Well,  joii  don't  look  it/'  was  the  compliment. 
^'However,  I'll  give  jou  a  trial  at  |1.50  per  day. 

You  can  board  with  Mr for  thirty  cents 

a  day." 

"That's  unusually  cheap  for  board/'  I  said. 
"A  man  doing  hard  labor  needs  plenty  to  eat  and 
I'm  perfectly  willing  to  pay  at  least  |3.50  per 
week." 

Evidently  he  misconstrued  my  meaning. 

"My  men  furnish  plenty  to  eat  for  any  man/' 
said  he,  but  you  won't  get  any  pie  or  cake/'  he 
retorted/'  eyeing  me  with  undisguised  disap- 
proval. 

"O,  that's  all  right!  I  can  eat  anything/'  I 
hastened  to  say. 

"Very  well,  Mr.  Peele,  you  may  come  to  work 
this  afternoon.  It's  not  far  to  your  boarding 
place.  Just  keep  the  straight  path  through  the 
woods  there,  and  its  the  first  house  you  get  to." 

I'll  not  expose  my  landlord's  name,  but  for  the 
sake  of  convenience  we'll  call  him  Mr.  Black. 

In  due  time  I  reached  t\iQ  Black  household. 
The  scene  which  met  my  gaze  was  altogether  un- 
inviting and  unappetizing.  I  can't  describe  the 
house.  There  was  one  living  room,  a  kitchen, 
and  a  shed  room. 

The  day  was  warm  and  several  Black  children 

were  in  the  yard  playing  as  I  reached  the  gate. 

Upon  seeing  a  stranger  approach  there  was  a 


64  From  North  Carolina 

general  stampede  for  the  back  yard,  some  of  the 
smaller  children  taking  refuge  behind  Mrs.  Black, 
who  at  that  moment  appeared  in  the  open  door- 
way. 

If  appearances  count  for  anything,  Mrs.  Black 
had  certainly  not  combed  her  hair  within  several 
weeks,  and  the  grime  on  her  face  and  clothes  was 
a  sickening  sight  to  contemplate. 

''Good  morning,  madam;  my  name  is  Peele; 
I'm  to  work  at  the  saw-mill,  and  Mr.  Hall  says 
you'll  furnish  me  board." 

"All  right,  just  make  yourself  at  home,"  she 
invited  bashfully,  and  the  next  moment  she  dis- 
appeared into  the  dark  recess  of  the  only  living 
room. 

Strictly  on  time,  Mr.  Black  arrived  for  the 
noonday  meal,  and  forthwith  we  proceeded  to 
the  dining-room. 

Both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Black  began  making  apolo- 
gies, but,  with  a  few  jokes,  I  set  them  at  ease, 
assuring  them  that  I  wouldn't  be  hard  to  please. 

To  see  the  hard  side  of  life  would  make  a  bet- 
ter man  of  me  anyway,  I  reflected. 

There  was  no  attempt  to  have  clean  dishes,  for 
two  sets  or  more  of  children  had  already  eaten, 
and  others  were  yet  coming  in. 

The  meal  consisted  of  rice,  honey  and  bread. 
So  far  as  I  could  see  there  was  nothing  else.  I 
now  saw  how  a  man  could  be  boarded  for  thirty 
cents  a  day. 


to  Southern  California.  65 

They'll  have  something  more  substantial  for 
supper,  I  thought,  beginning  to  crust  the  top  of 
a  black-looking,  half-done  biscuit.  The  biscuits 
were  unusually  large  ones,  weighing  nearly  two 
pounds  each. 

A  little  rice  and  honey  and  the  huge  top  of  the 
biscuit  formed  my  meal. 

There  was  no  denying  the  fact,  I  was  hungry 
and  was  enjoying  my  portion  quite  well,  when 
Mr.  Black  took  a  sudden  notion  to  either  become 
funny,  or  spoil  my  appetite,  I  don't  know  which. 
He  had  been  kicking  up  a  great  fuss  drinking  his 
coffee,  when  all  at  once  the  noise  ceased.  He  had 
caught  a  fly  in  his  cup.  Holding  up  the  fly  by 
the  hind  leg  high  into  the  air,  he  smilingly  an- 
nounced : 

"I've  caught  a  sucker !" 

To  my  astonishment  Mrs.  Black  took  it  as  a 
great  joke,  and  began  laughing  heartily. 

Thoroughly  disgusted  I  kept  silent. 

It  was  not  long  before  Mr.  Black  caught 
another  fly. 

Holding  up  the  unfortunate  fly  between  his 
thumb  and  forefinger,  and  with  true  Florida  slow- 
ness, he  drawled : 

"Well,  darlin',  I've  caught  another  sucker." 

I'll  not  dwell  upon  all  the  funny  things  that 
happened  during  my  short  stay  with  the  Blacks. 

I  slept  in  the  little  shed  room,  and  every  night 
went  to  bed  at  dark,  for  there  was  no  way  of  ob- 
taining anything  to  read. 
5 


66  From  North  Carolina 

Rice  and  honey  continued  in  evidence  on  the 
table  throughout. 

Only  twice  was  the  menu  changed.  On  these 
two  occasions  Mrs.  Black's  ten-year-old  son  varied 
the  diet  by  visiting  the  lakes,  which  were  near 
the  house,  and  fairly  teeming  with  fish. 

Wild  honey  and  fresh  fish  are  both  good,  but  at 
the  end  of  a  hard  week's  work  at  the  saw-mill,  I 
was  ready  for  other  fields  of  adventure,  and  set- 
tling my  board  bill,  bade  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Black 
good-bye. 

As  a  result  of  my  week's  labor  I  now  had  the 
sum  of  seven  dollars. 

Mr.  Hall  seemed  sorry  at  my  leaving. 

^'You'd  better  be  careful  if  you  intend  to  beat 
to  Pensacola,"  said  he,  '^for  I  hear  there  are 
twenty-two  white  men  working  the  county  roads 
there  for  hoboing." 

^'Well,  I  can  only  wish  for  better  luck,  sir,  and 
I  must  now  bid  you  good-bye." 

It  was  late  Saturday  afternoon  when  I  reached 
Chipley. 

Straightway  I  proceeded  to  the  only  restaurant 
in  the  little  town,  and  my  next  half  hour  was  in- 
deed a  busy  one. 

The  bill  was  sixty  cents,  but  I  had  no  regrets. 

The  passenger  train  bound  for  Pensacola  was 
due  in  Chipley  just  before  dark. 

Someone  told  me  that  I  could  catch  the  train 
at  a  long  trestle  about  four  miles  from  the  town. 


to  Southern  California.  67 

I  set  out  on  foot  at  a  rapid  gait  for  the  trestle  and 
reached  it  slightly  in  advance  of  the  train. 

Having  but  three  or  four  coaches  and  running 
at  full  speed,  the  engineer  was  unable  to  check 
the  train's  flight  before  running  almost  midway 
of  the  bridge. 

Just  in  the  nick  of  time  I  reached  the  brass 
handles,  and  swung  upon  the  lower  steps  of  the 
rear  car,  as  the  train  once  more  resumed  its 
journey. 

The  top  part  of  the  rear  door  had  been  let 
down — I  suppose  for  ventilation. 

Every  moment,  fearing  discovery,  my  eyes  were 
fastened  in  a  steady  stare  upon  the  door. 

I  had  been  crouching  upon  the  steps  scarcely 
five  minutes  ere  a  lady  passenger  peered  out  into 
the  fast  gathering  darkness. 

For  the  space  of  a  second  the  head  was  frame^^ 
in  the  open  doorway,  when,  with  a  quick  jerk,  it 
disappeared  into  the  brilliantly  lighted  car. 

There  was  no  doubt  she  had  seen  me  and  was 
very  much  frightened. 

^'Hey !  what  the are  you  doing  there?" 

shouted  the  conductor  a  moment  later. 

*^Going  to  Pensacola,  if  you'll  allow  me,  sir. 
I'll  always  appreciate  it.  Captain,  if " 

"I'll  wire  to  Caryville  and  allow  you  to  be  ar- 
rested if  vou  don't  either  get  down  off  this  train 
or  pay  your  fare,"  shouted  the  conductor. 

As  will  be  remembered,  I  was  still  on  the  L.  & 


68  From  North  Carolina 

N.  Road,  and  remembering  Mr.  Hall's  caution,  de- 
cided to  pay  my  fare. 

Ten  minutes  later  I  was  riding  on  a  first-class 
ticket  to  Pensacola.  Out  of  the  |5.00  bill  I 
handed  the  conductor  I  received  only  twenty 
cents.  He  had  taken  out  the  full  fare  from  Chip- 
ley,  charging  me  for  the  four  miles  I  had  walked. 

At  10  p.  m.  the  train  pulled  into  the  station  at 
Pensacola. 

^'Is  there  a  night  freight  from  here  to  Mobile?" 

The  question  was  directed  to  a  young  man 
about  my  own  age,  who  had  just  come  out  of  a 
barber  shop. 

^'No,  but  there's  a  midnight  freight  to  Floma- 
ton,  Ala.,  which  is  about  half  way,  I  believe.  Go- 
ing to  hobo  it?" 

*^Yes,  I  may  do  so." 

"Then  I'd  advise  you  to  be  careful  in  this  town, 
my  friend.  You're  likely  to  get  a  job  making 
"little  rocks  out  of  big  ones."  There  are  twenty- 
two  of  'em  at  it  now,  and  a  night  cop  at  the  depot 
waiting  to  catch  others.  Now,  the  best  thing  you 
can  do,"  he  continued,  "would  be  to  walk  from 
this  town  to  Flomaton,  and  if  you're  going  on  to 
New  Orleans,  you'd  better  walk  through  all  of 
Southern  Mississippi  to  the  State  line  of  Louis- 
iana, for  if  you're  caught  'hoboing'  in  Mississippi, 
you'll  get  eleven  months  and  twenty-nine  days  in 
prison.  Upon  being  released  you're  allowed  one 
day  to  get  out  of  the  town,  and  upon  failing  to  do 


to  Southern  California.  69 

so,  you're  again  arrested  and  thrown  into  jail  for 
a  like  term  for  vagrancy. 

Upon  hearing  this  I  admit  that  I  was  consider- 
ably frightened ;  but  it  would  never  do  to  give  up 
in  this  manner,  for  the  trip  was  hardly  begun  yet, 
and  if  I  had  heeded  all  the  advice  of  this  nature 
I  had  received  since  leaving  Wilmington,  the 
probabilities  are  I  would  not  yet  have  reached 
Jacksonville. 

''Nothing  ventured,  nothing  gained,"  and  I  de- 
cided to  either  leave  Pensacola  on  the  next  train 
or  get  thrown  into  jail  for  the  attempt. 

Accordingly  I  started  for  the  depot  at  which  I 
had  recently  been  landed  as  a  first-class  passen- 
ger, and  reached  it  just  as  the  Flomaton  freight 
was  pulling  out. 

There  was  no  cop  in  sight,  for  which  I  was 
deeply  thankful. 

The  train  was  an  extremely  short  one  and  was 
rapidly  getting  under  headway  when  I  arrived. 

A  quick  glance  up  and  down  the  train  sufficed 
to  show  that  there  were  no  empty  or  flat  cars 
along.  My  ride  must  be  either  in  the  cold  winds 
on  top  or  between  the  cars.  I  chose  the  latter 
place. 

In  this  position  a  man  has  to  stick  close  to  the 
end  of  only  one  of  the  two  cars  he  is  riding  be- 
tween, for  there  is  always  danger  of  the  cars 
breaking  loose  and  dashing  him  to  instant  death 
upon  the  tracks  beneath.     He  can  hold  on  to  the 


70  From  North  Carolina 

break  rod  with  his  hands  and  the  car  bumper 
affords  him  a  narrow  standing  room. 

It  was  six  long,  weary  hours  later — just  sun- 
rise— when,  more  dead  than  alive,  I  stepped  from 
the  train  in  Flomaton,  or  rather  I  fell  off  the 
train  in  Flomaton. 

My  limbs  had  become  cramped  and  stiff  from 
standing  in  one  position  during  the  night's  long 
ride,  and  in  trying  to  jump  off  the  train  in  the 
suburbs  of  the  town,  I  was  thrown  violently  to 
the  ground,  sustaining  a  badly  bruised  hand  and 
several  smaller  hurts. 

A  negro  who  lived  near  by  furnished  me  with 
soap  and  water,  though  I  was  minus  a  handker- 
chief and  was  compelled  to  dry  my  face  with  old 
newspapers. 

Flomaton  is  a  small  town,  not  more  than  a 
mile  from  the  Florida  State  line,  and  derives 
most  of  its  importance  from  being  a  railroad 
center. 

I  started  down  town  in  search  of  a  restaurant, 
but  had  not  proceeded  far  when  I  was  overtaken 
by  a  man  who  inquired : 

^^Have  you  heard  the  news?'' 

^'What  news?"  I  asked. 

"Why,  a  railroad  man  was  shot  and  instantly 
killed  near  the  depot  this  morning,  just  before 
light." 

"Who  shot  him?"  I  asked. 


to  Southern  California.  71 

"As  yet  they  have  no  clew,"  replied  the  man, 
looking  at  me  keenly,  but  it  is  thought  he  was 
shot  by  a  stranger." 

We  were  now  near  the  depot.  A  passenger 
train  was  steamed  up. 

"Where  does  that  train  go,"  I  asked. 

"It  leaves  in  a  few  minutes  for  Mobile,"  he  re- 
plied, parting  with  me  at  a  nearby  street  corner. 

No  sooner  was  he  out  of  sight  than  I  started  on 
a  2  :40  pace  for  the  engine. 

All  thoughts  of  breakfast  fled.  A  man  had 
been  shot  dead  in  the  town,  and  as  yet  there  was 
no  clue  as  to  the  identity  of  the  murderer.  The 
citizens  of  the  place  would  soon  be  up  and  astir 
on  the  streets,  and  I  stood  a  fine  chance  of  being 
arrested  on  suspicion. 

With  a  single  bound  I  was  in  the  engine  cab, 
and  the  next  moment  I  was  pleading  with  the 
engineer  to  take  me  to  Mobile. 

That  my  pleading  was  earnest  need  not  be  said, 
for  I  won  the  case. 

"Wait  until  we  get  a  good  start  and  then  swing 
the  'blind  baggage.'  "I  won't  see  you,"  he 
grinned,  but  its  rather  risky  going  into  Mobile 
on  a  passenger  train  in  broad  open  day,  for  there's 
generally  two  or  three  cops  hanging  'round  the 
depot,  and  the  yard  is  full  of  detectives. 

The  word  "detective"  as  used  here  is  what  is 
termed  in  North  Carolina  a  town  constable. 

In  making  arrests  of  this  kind  the  constable  is 
not  required  by  the  State  to  show  a  warrant. 


72  From  North  Carolina 

Southern  Alabama  and  Mississippi  are  full  of 
these  detectives ;  and  seldom  it  is  that  a  man  gets 
through  without  a  scratch. 

Sometime  between  11  and  12  o'clock  that  day 
we  ran  into  the  suburbs  of  Mobile. 

Darting  from  the  closed  doorway,  in  which  I 
had  been  standing,  to  the  car  platform,  I  cau- 
tiously peeped  out. 

Several  men  standing  on  the  sidewalk  near  a 
large  factory  saw  me,  and  motioned  violently 
with  their  hands  for  me  to  jump  off,  but  the  train 
was  running  too  fast  for  that,  and  with  a  feeling 
of  indescribable  fear,  I  quickly  sprang  back  and 
jammed  myself  tightly  against  the  closed  door — 
careful  even  to  turn  my  feet  sideways,  with  my 
face  pressed  flat  against  the  door.  All  hopes  of 
safely  alighting  in  the  suburbs  was  given  out. 
The  houses  were  fast  getting  thicker  and  stores 
began  to  flash  by. 

Presently,  to  my  surprise,  the  train  turned  into 
one  of  the  principal  business  streets  of  Mobile. 
Large  mercantile  houses  towered  above  me  on 
every  side. 

The  train  ran  several  blocks  down  this  street 
before  stopping  at  the  depot. 

A  man  stepped  in  front  of  me  to  uncouple  the 
engine. 

Not  daring  to  move,  I  whispered : 

^'Which  side  is  the  depot  on?'' 

^^Get  off  on  your  right,  quick!"  he  whispered, 
without  glancing  up. 


to  Southern  California.  73 

In  an  instant  I  was  upon  the  ground  and  walk- 
ing towards  the  boat  wharves,  but  a  few  blocks 
distant. 

Only  by  prompt  action  in  getting  off  the  train, 
and  knowing  which  side  to  alight  on,  had  I  been 
able  to  escape  the  wide-awake  officials  at  Mobile. 

I  felt  like  laughing  as  I  reached  the  wharves 
and  noted  that  no  one  had  pursued  me. 

Evidently,  I  was  getting  to  be  an  expert  ''hobo" 
— but  my  joy  was  of  short  duration,  for  now  I 
was  as  anxious  to  reach  New  Orleans  as  I  had 
been  to  reach  Mobile — and  what  if  I  was  thrown 
in  jail  for  a  long  term  in  Southern  Mississippi? 
Well,  my  people  should  never  hear  of  it,  I  re- 
solved. 

Going  on  a  small  vessel  I  asked  for  soap  and 
water. 

I  was  given  a  big  cake  of  dirty  looking  soap, 
half  as  large  as  my  head,  and  told  to  draw  my 
own  water.  Seizing  a  water  bucket  to  which  a 
long  rope  was  attached,  I  cast  overboard  and 
soon  drew  into  view  a  big  bucketful  of  slimy 
looking  water,  that  at  home  my  own  dog  would 
have  sniffed  at  contemptuously.  But  a  chap 
buffeting  against  the  world,  as  I  was  now  doing, 
soon  learns  not  to  be  too  choice.  After  awhile 
he  forgets  the  luxuries  that  were  once  his,  and  in 
most  respects  life  assumes  a  different  aspect. 

Having  washed  up,  I  thanked  the  boatman  and 
left  the  wharves. 


74  From  North  Carol  ma 

A  good  dinner  made  me  feel  better,  and  I  de- 
cided to  stay  in  town  over  night  and  rest  up. 

I  noticed  but  few  automobiles  in  Mobile. 

After  dinner  I  found  a  nice  room  and  paid  for 
a  night's  lodging  in  advance. 

About  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  I  retired  to 
sleep,  determined  to  get  as  much  rest  as  possible 
for  my  money  before  next  morning. 

I  slept  probably  two  hours,  and  then  awoke 
with  an  uncomfortable  feeling.  I  had  been  dream- 
ing of  beating  trains  and  of  several  narrow  es- 
capes from  death. 

A  cop  chasing  me  dangerously  close  had  awak- 
ened me. 

The  bed  seemed  moving  and  the  whole  room 
whirling  around.  As  soon  as  my  eyes  became 
accustomed  to  objects  in  the  room  and  I  saw  that 
I  w^as  really  safe  from  harm,  I  again  tried  to  go 
to  sleep,  but  it  was  no  use,  for  the  bed  now 
seemed  literally  flying  through  space,  and  though 
lying  in  the  middle,  it  seemed  all  I  could  do  to 
maintain  my  position. 

In  disgust  I  arose  and  dressed. 

The  train  for  New  Orleans  would  leave  at  4 :30, 
and  I  yet  had  over  an  hour  to  reach  the  depot. 

The  man  who  uncoupled  the  engine  of  the 
Flomaton  passenger  that  morning  showed  up  just 
before  train  time. 

I  told  him  I  intended  trying  to  beat  the  train  to 
New  Orleans. 


to  Southern  California.  75 

He  promised  he  would  fix  it  up  with  the  engi- 
neer for  me,  but  that  I  must  look  out  myself  for 
the  conductor,  as  he  didn't  know  him. 

''You'd  better  look  out  going  through  Missis- 
sippi, though,"  he  said.  ''The  train  makes  but 
three  regular  stops — Scranton,  Biloxi  and  Gulf 
Port.  If  you  are  not  sharp  you'll  get  run  in  at 
one  of  those  places." 

"Don't  turn  your  head !  he  suddenly  whispered, 
"there's  a  detective  under  the  depot  looking  at 
you  now.  We'd  better  not  be  seen  talking  to- 
gether." 

"Good-bye,  young  fellow,  and  I  hope  you  may 
get  through  safe." 

The  4 :30  passenger  arrived  in  Mobile  on  time, 
and  a  few  moments  later  pulled  out  bound  on  its 
long  journey  to  New  Orleans. 

Hidden  between  two  box-cars  farther  up  the 
road,  I  waited  for  the  engine  to  pass. 

The  train  was  going  at  a  rapid  clip  when  I 
sprang  out  and  made  a  headlong  dash  for  the 
^'blind  baggage,"  which  I  caught  safely. 

Either  the  conductor  had  not  seen  me  or  was 
waiting  for  me  to  get  picked  uij  down  the  road. 

The  train's  speed  was  increasing  every  mo- 
ment, and  Mobile  was  soon  left  miles  behind. 

Sunday  evening  just  before  dark  we  pulled  into 
Scranton,  Miss. 

A  great  throng  of  people,  including  a  good 
many  beautiful  young  girls,  had  turned  out  to 


76  From  North  Carolina 

see  the  train.  Their  voices  told  me  which  side 
the  depot  was  on. 

No  sooner  had  the  train  stopped  than  I  was 
upon  the  ground  on  the  opposite  side. 

I  heard  someone  running  towards  the  engine 
on  the  other  side  of  the  track. 

Trembling  with  fear  for  a  moment  I  stood  still. 

Another  train  filled  to  overflowing  with  passen- 
gers and  headed  towards  Mobile  had  side-tracked 
for  the  New  Orleans  train.  Jumping  aboard  the 
Mobile  train,  I  mingled  with  the  passengers. 

In  a  few  moments,  by  looking  through  the  car 
window,  I  noted  with  satisfaction  that  the  New 
Orleans  train  was  again  on  the  move. 

One,  two,  three  car  lengths  passed. 

With  a  single  bound  I  sprang  from  the  Mobile 
train,  and  a  never-to-be-forgotten  race  for  the 
"blind  baggage'^  ensued. 

I  soon  passed  from  between  the  two  trains,  and 
now  it  was  an  open  track  race. 

As  I  passed  the  last  coach  of  the  Mobile  train 
two  forms  loomed  up  on  the  side-track. 

"There  he  is !  He  is  the  fellow !''  cried  one  of 
the  men. 

"Yes,  I'm  the  fellow,''  and  stiffening  my  fore- 
arm, I  delivered  the  sheriff,  who  stepped  out  to 

intercept  me,  a  right  swing  under  the  chin 

crack ! 

The  man  received  the  full  benefit  of  the  motion 
of  my  body  and  went  to  the  ground  like  a  ten  pin. 


to  Southern  California,  77 

It  was  a  blow  I  had  been  taught  at  the  Ardell 
Club  while  taking  boxing  lessons  under  Cy  Flinn, 
a  pugilist  of  considerable  local  fame  in  Buffalo. 

The  engineer,  sitting  backAvards  in  his  cab,  had 
witnessed  the  trouble,  and  as  I  vanished  between 
two  mail  cars,  the  whole  train  jumped  with  a  sud- 
den burst  of  speed. 

Evidently  the  kindhearted  engineer  was  keep- 
ing up  his  part  of  the  contract  to  take  me  through. 

It  was  dark  when  we  reached  Biloxi  and  Gulf 
Port,  and  by  careful  dodging  I  escaped  the  men 
who  had  searched  the  train  at  these  points. 

The  biggest  part  of  the  journey  was  now  over 
the  Gulf  waters,  and  at  an  extremely  slow  rate 
of  speed. 

At  nine  o'clock  that  night  we  crossed  the  Mis- 
sissippi, and  the  train  came  to  a  standstill  at  the 
depot  on  Canal  street.  New  Orleans. 

I  stayed  in  New  Orleans  one  week. 

I  arrived  in  the  Crescent  City  with  less  than  a 
dollar,  and  on  the  second  night  my  money  was 
gone  and  I  was  forced  to  sleep  upon  one  of  the 
wharves  near  the  foot  of  Canal  street. 

The  next  day  I  got  a  job  unloading  bananas  off 
the  boats  at  the  I.  C.  wharves  at  two  bits  an  hour. 

I  found  a  room  now  at  No.  1006  Iberville  street, 
in  a  lodging  house  run  by  a  Mrs.  M.  P.  Westmore- 
land. Mrs.  Westmoreland  is  a  well-to-do  widow, 
and  also  a  very  kind-hearted  lady.  She  refused 
to  accept  anything  for  my  lodging,  saying  she 


78  From  North  Carolina 

would  be  amply  repaid  if  I  would  write  her  a 
letter  when  I  got  to  Tucson. 

'^I  shall  always  think  you  were  accidentally 
killed  if  I  never  hear  from  you,"  she  said. 

I  was  always  a  poor  writer,  and  have  never  sent 
her  the  letter,  but  if  this  little  pamphlet  is  ever 
published,  I  shall  take  pleasure  in  sending  her  a 
copy,  together  with  my  best  greetings. 

Only  three  banana  steamers  arrived  while  I 
was  in  the  city.  The  fruit  is  loaded  in  the  West 
Indies.     I  made  |4.50  at  this  job. 

New  Orleans  is  a  fascinating  town  and  the 
easiest  place  in  the  world  to  spend  your  money. 

A  few  days  later,  when  I  made  preparations  to 
leave  for  Texas,  my  |4.50  had  dwindled  to  |0. 

There  are  more  beautiful  yellow  girls  to  be  seen 
on  the  streets  of  New  Orleans  in  one  day  than  one 
would  see  in  most  cities  in  a  lifetime.  They  are 
called  Creoles,  or  something  of  the  kind,  and  can 
be  seen  walking  around,  all  over  the  town,  in 
every  direction.  Even  down  at  the  wharves  every 
afternoon  about  boat  time  you'll  see  them  lined 
up  in  great  numbers. 

There  was  a  lot  of  talk  about  the  ^^Hoodlums" 
while  I  was  in  New  Orleans.  All  the  city  news- 
papers, as  well  as  some  of  the  State  papers,  had 
long  articles  concerning  the  doings  of  this  re- 
markable organization.  Nearly  every  section  of 
the  city  had  been  visited  at  one  time  or  another 
and  terrorized  by  them. 


to  iSoutheni  California.  79 

I  recalled  the  words  of  the  engine  coupler  at 
Mobile.  When  I  parted  with  him,  his  last  re- 
mark was,  ''Look  out  for  the  Hoodlums." 

They  are  a  set  of  young  city  bloods  and  toughs 
of  the  worst  stripe,  banded  together  to  rob,  mur- 
der and  steal. 

I  met  a  well  dressed  young  man  in  a  large  park 
there  one  night,  who  told  me  confidentially  that 
he  was  a  ''Hoodlum";  said  he  thought  he  and  I 
would  make  good  friends,  and  that  he  might  be 
able  to  get  me  in  as  a  member,  but  I  declined  the 
invitation  with  thanks. 

Yes,  NcAv  Orleans  is  a  great  place  in  many 
ways.  On  the  day  I  left,  while  standing  on  the 
street  corner  taking  a  last  view  of  the  place,  a 
man  bearing  a  large  basket,  carefully  covered 
over,  approached  me  and  said : 

"Crawfish?  Crawfish?" 

''What  about  crawfish?"  I  asked. 

He  looked  at  me  in  surprise. 

"Good  to  eat,"  he  said ;  "only  five  cents  a  pint." 

I  told  him  they  were  used  down  home  for  fish 
bait,  whereupon  he  got  mad  and  went  strutting 
up  the  street. 

I  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  crawfish,  though. 
There  was  no  mistaking  it ;  they  were  real  craw- 
fish all  right,  and  were  what  w^e  term  "little 
teenie"  ones.  The  man  said  they  had  been  cooked 
very  carefully  and  were  well  done.  Of  course  the 
head  is  thrown  away,  and  it  is  only  the  tail  part 
that  is  eaten. 


80  From  North  Carolina 


CHAPTER  V. 

A  Hungry  Ride  of  808  Miles — ''Hello,  Hello  in 
the  Pipe  There!" — To  Work  Agai7i — Nahhed  hy 
a  Cop. 

Late  one  afternoon  I  crossed  the  river  on  a 
freight  ferry  to  the  Texas  Pacific  railroad  yards. 

That  night  I  beat  a  freight  train  208  miles  to 
Boyce,  La.,  reaching  Boyce  about  11  o'clock  next 
morning.  Another  freight  on  the  same  day  bore 
me  to  Marshall,  Tex.,  100  miles  from  Boyce. 

All  day  long  I  had  had  nothing  to  eat  and  it 
was  9  o'clock  at  night  when  we  reached  the  city 
of  Marshall. 

I  had  just  one  hour  to  get  something  to  eat  and 
get  back  to  the  depot,  for  the  Dallas  freight 
would  pull  out  at  10  p.  m. 

I  went  four  or  five  blocks  up  a  side  street  and 
knocked  on  a  cottage  door.  The  occupants  had 
retired,  but  a  second  knock  brought  the  madam  to 
the  door. 

I  told  the  lady  a  sad  story  of  how  hungry  I 
was,  and  ended  up  by  asking  for  a  pan  of  water 
to  wash  my  face  and  hands,  if  it  would  not  cause 
her  too  much  trouble. 

She  called  to  her  husband,  who  came  hurrying 
into  the  hall  in  his  stocking  feet. 

After  I  had  told  my  story  again  a  pan  of  water 
was  brought  into  the  hall  and  I  was  invited  in. 


to  Southern  California.  81 

They  told  me,  while  I  was  washing,  they  had 
nothing  in  the  house  to  eat. 

I  took  out  my  note  book. 

"If  you  will  loan  me  five  cents,"  I  said,  "I'll 
take  your  address  and  return  it.  I'm  very  hun- 
gry, sir,  and  will  appreciate  it  more  than  I  can 
tell  you." 

The  man  loaned  me  a  dime,  but  would  furnish 
no  address ;  and  hastily  thanking  them,  I  hurried 
out  the  gate  and  started  on  a  run  for  the  railroad 
restaurant. 

A  big,  fat  fellow  runs  the  railroad  restaurant 
at  Marshall — a  Dutchman  or  Irishman,  I  couldn't 
decide  which,  but  he  is  as  good  natured  as  he  is 
large. 

There  was  nobody  in  but  the  proprietor  when 
I  entered. 

"My  friend,  I  am  very  hungry,  and  am  broke — 
I  have  just  ten  cents,  and  am  thousands  of  miles 
from  home.  Give  me  ten  cents  worth  of  supper, 
and  please  understand  I  want  quantity  and  not 
quality." 

The  meal  that  good-hearted  fellow  spread  out 
on  the  table  caused  me  to  blush  with  shame,  but 
I  was  hungry,  and  shame  was  set  in  the  back- 
ground. 

It  was  chicken  fricassee,  sausage,  beef,  etc.,  and 
more  of  each  than  I  could  eat,  hungry  as  I  was. 

In  a  short  time  I  left  the  restaurant. 

It  was  already  time  for  the  Dallas  freight  to 
6 


82  From  North  Carolina 

leave,  and  I  went  hurrying  down  the  track 
through  the  darkness  to  where  the  train  was 
making  up. 

I  came  upon  two  brakemen  struggling  in  a  vain 
endeavor  to  close  a  tight  car  door.  (From  this 
point  throughout  the  West  the  brakemen  are 
white  men.)  The  men  were  cursing  and  swear- 
ing at  a  great  rate  at  their  failure  to  close  the 
door,  but  with  the  united  effort  of  all  three  of  us, 
it  was  finally  pushed  to  and  sealed. 

^^I  want  to  go  to  Dallas.  You  fellows  care  if 
I  get  on?'' 

''We'll  take  you  for  $1.00"  said  the  brakemen. 

I  told  them  I  didn't  have  the  money.  ( In  this . 
part  of  the  country  a  brakeman  makes  almost  as 
much  carrying  hobos  as  his  wages  amount  to.  A 
dollar  is  the  usual  charge  for  a  division,  which  is 
anywhere  from  one  hundred  to  two  hundred 
miles,  but  when  a  hobo  attempts  to  go  without 
paying,  he  is  generally  treated  pretty  rough,  if 
not  thrown  from  the  train  and  killed. ) 

'Tour  bits,  and  we'll  carry  you,"  said  one  of 
the  brakemen. 

''I  give  you  my  honest  word,  I  haven't  got  a 
cent,  fellows." 

"Then  don't  get  on  this  train.  Do,  you'll  get 
kicked  off,"  said  the  men. 

I  left  them  and  went  hurrying  through  the 
darkness  down  the  long  line  of  cars. 

I  found  a  car  half  full  of  cross-ties. 


to  Southern  California.  83 

The  door  had  not  been  sealed,  and  crawling 
into  the  back  end  of  the  car  I  pulled  off  my 
coat — for  the  night  was  very  hot — and  folding  it 
up  into  a  nice  pillow,  I  lay  down  to  sleep. 

I  never  knew  when  the  train  started,  but  about 
forty  miles  down  the  road  the  brakemen  found 
me,  and  shining  their  lanterns  within  a  foot  of 
my  face,  woke  me  up. 

Instead  of  ^'kicking"  me  off,  as  threatened,  they 
talked  fairly  sociable. 

''We'll  not  put  you  down  in  this  storm,  here  on 
the  prairie,  for  there's  nothing  here  but  a  side- 
track, but  the  next  stop  is  Longview,  and  you'll 
have  to  get  off,"  they  said. 

I  went  to  the  door  and  looked  out.  The  rain 
was  coming  down  in  great  sheets,  and  the  heavens 
were  lit  up  by  an  almost  constant  glare  of  light- 
ning.    It  was  the  worst  storm  I  had  ever  seen. 

As  far  as  I  could  see  in  every  direction  was  a 
vast  expanse  of  rolling  prairie.  It  was  the  first 
time  I  had  ever  seen  the  prairies,  and  I  felt  deeply 
impressed.  I  noted  that  the  air  seemed  purer 
and  fresher  too  than  any  I  had  ever  breathed 
before. 

At  Longview  the  men  came  to  the  car  to  put  me 
doAvn,  but  I  had  already  gotten  down,  and  not 
finding  me,  they  left. 

The  train  started,  and  rising  up  from  the 
ground,  where  I  had  been  hiding,  I  crawled  into 
the  car  of  ties  again. 


84  From  North  Carolina 

I  was  run  out  of  the  same  car  three  times  that 
night.  The  last  time  I  was  put  off ;  the  brakemen 
told  me  if  I  got  back  on  the  train  again  they 
would  shoot  me. 

I  had  reached  the  town  of  Big  Sandy,  Tex.,  and 
decided  I  had  better  wait  for  another  train. 

It  lacked  but  a  few^  minutes  of  12  o'clock  as  I 
made  my  way  over  to  a  small  drug  store,  not  far 
from  the  depot. 

A  sharp  featured  man  was  talking  to  the  drug- 
gist as  I  entered. 

He  slightly  bowed  at  me,  and  presently  said : 

"You're  a  stranger  here,  are  you  not?" 

Something  told  me  he  was  a  detective. 

I  told  him  yes,  I  was  a  stranger  and  trying  to 
reach  Dallas,  and  a  good  many  other  things  I 
told  him  I  don't  remember. 

He  finally  admitted  he  had  just  searched  the 
train  I  had  left,  but  as  he  hadn't  caught  me  in 
the  act,  he  would  let  me  go,  comforting  me  with 
the  assurance  that  I  would  get  caught  anyway  at 
Mineola. 

"Why,  they  are  so  bad  after  hobos  in  Mineola 
they  break  open  the  car  door  seals,  searching  for 
them,"  he  said. 

Two  hours  later  I  was  standing  on  the  "blind 
baggage"  platform,  behind  the  coal  tender  of  a 
passenger  train  bound  for  Dallas. 

It  was  raining  pretty  hard  when  we  got  to 
Mineola,  and  no  one  came  to  bother  me. 

Shortly  after  daylight  we  steamed  into  Dallas. 


to  Southern  California.  85 

I  jumped  from  the  train  as  it  began  to  slow  up 
at  the  State  Fair  Grounds  in  the  edge  of  the  city. 

I  had  at  last  gotten  to  Dallas,  but  I  was  cer- 
tainly in  a  bad  fix — penniless,  wet  to  the  skin, 
cold,  sick,  and  deathly  sleepy. 

I  went  over  to  a  small  grocery  store,  near  the 
fair  grounds,  run  by  a  Mrs.  Sprague. 

A  beautiful  young  girl  about  fifteen  years  old, 
who  was  clerking  in  the  store,  brought  me  a  pan 
of  water  to  wash. 

'^Didn't  you  beat  that  passenger  train  in  town?^' 
asked  the  elderly  lady,  as  I  began  washing. 

^'I  did,  madam,  and  I  am  sorry  that  circum- 
stances necessitated  my  doing  so,"  I  replied. 

'^I  thought  I  saw  you  jump  off,"  she  said,  whis- 
pering something  to  the  young  girl,  who  vanished 
into  the  back  part  of  the  store. 

It  took  nearly  twenty  minutes  of  hard  scrub- 
bing for  me  to  get  the  cinders  and  grease  out  of 
my  hair  and  eyes. 

As  I  finished,  the  young  lady  re-entered  the 
store  and  approached  me : 

'^Come  and  have  some  breakfast,"  she  said  in  a 
low  voice,  ^'its  all  ready  and  the  coffee's  hot." 

For  a  moment  I  felt  worse  than  at  any  time 
since  leaving  home.  I  tried  to  refuse,  but  they 
allowed  me  no  chance. 

"I've  got  a  dear  son  myself  wandering  some- 
where over  this  big  world,"  said  the  good  woman, 
putting  a  handkerchief  to  her  eyes. 


86 


From  North  Carolina 


to  Southern  California.  87 

There  was  no  help  for  it,  and  I  humbly  assented 
to  take  a  cup  of  coffee.  The  hot,  steaming  coffee 
was  of  the  best  quality,  and  four  times  did  my 
beautiful  young  waitress  see  that  my  cup  was 
filled. 

Sometimes  I  think  that  coffee  saved  my  life. 
Upon  leaving  Mrs.  Sprague's  I  walked  down 
town  from  the  fair  grounds,  a  distance  of  about 
three  miles. 

The  first  man  I  asked  for  a  job  was  F.  P.  Hol- 
lano,  the  rich  editor  of  the  Texas  Farm  and 
Ranch. 

He  said  he  had  no  work  at  present. 
Belore  leaving,  I  told  him  I  was  sick,  cold  and 
hungry,  and  had  nowhere  to  sleep  that  night. 

I  asied  him  to  loan  me  |1.00  until  I  could  get 
on  my  feet  and  pay  him  back.  He  loaned  me  25 
ceats,  which  I  was  glad  to  be  able  to  pay  back  in 
a  :ew  days. 

Leaving  the  rich  man  and  his  luxury,  I  took  a 
loig  tramp  back  to  the  fair  grounds,  where  some- 
oie  said  I  could  get  a  job. 

Secretary  Sidney  Smith  was  in  charge  of  the 
W(rk,  and  after  hearing  my  story,  kindly  fur- 
niiied  me  a  place  to  sleep  and  eat,  and  gave  me  a 
jol  helping  to  repair  the  fair  grounds. 

1  don't  really  need  any  more  labor,''  he  said, 

"bit  I  believe  in  helping  a  man  when  he's  down." 

le  secured  me  a  place  to  board  at  No.  270 

Soith  Carroll  Ave.,  with  one  of  the  foremen,  Mr. 

R.  ..  Downey. 


88  From  North  Carolina 

That  night  I  was  surprised  to  learn  that  the 
young  lady,  who  had  waited  on  me  so  nicely  at 
the  store,  was  Mr.  Downey's  daughter. 

While  at  Mrs.  Downey's  I  was  taken  down 
with  a  high  fever,  and  for  the  first  time  since 
leaving  home  I  had  a  hard  spell  of  asthma.  This 
only  increased  my  desire  to  get  to  Arizona  or 
New  Mexico. 

Good  cotton  choppers  around  Dallas  are  paid 
1 1.75  per  day  and  board. 

About  two  weeks  later  I  left  the  city. 

After  paying  for  my  board  and  buying  a  few 
articles  of  clothing,  I  had  but  |3.00.  > 

I  left  Dallas  one  Sunday  evening  on  a  street 
car  for  Fort  Worth.  The  distance  is  about  22 
miles.  I 

That  same  afternoon  an  employment  Dureau 
run  by  Glenn  &  Co.  shipped  me  for  fl.OO  from 
Fort  Worth  over  the  Fort  Worth  and  Denver 
Road  to  Iowa  Park,  Tex.,  to  do  railroad  constric- 
tion work.  I 

I  was  trying  to  reach  El  Paso,  which  is  ony 
GOO  miles  over  the  Texas  Pacific  Road  from  Fcrt 
Worth,  but  while  in  Fort  Worth  I  was  told  it  ms 
almost  as  much  as  a  man's  life  was  worth  to  ty 
to  beat  the  T.  P.  road  between  these  points,  3n 
account  of  the  extreme  cruelty  of  the  brakemtn, 
so  I  decided  to  go  around  the  longest  way,  wbch 
would  take  me  through  New  Mexico. 

On  the  way  to  Iowa  Park,  I  fell  in  with  a  yong 
man  from  Chicago,  who  had  also  shipped  oi 


to  Southern  California.  89 

That  night  we  deserted  the  train  at  a  small 
station  just  before  reaching  Iowa  Park. 

We  were  now  nearly  two  hundred  miles  from 
Fort  Worth  and  had  ridden  the  entire  distance 
for  11.00. 

I  have  forgotten  the  young  man's  name,  but 
v/ill  call  him  White.  He  said  he  had  left  his 
home  in  Chicago  to  settle  somewhere  in  the  West 
and  make  his  fortune. 

We  decided  to  travel  along  together  awhile. 

About  daylight  we  caught  a  freight  train. 

A  long  smokestack  of  some  kind  was  loaded  on 
a  flat-car. 

Into  the  smutty  stack  we  crawled,  he  entering 
one  end  and  I  the  other,  and  crawled  until  our 
heads  met  in  the  middle. 

When  we  came  together  White  was  trembling 
all  over. 

I've  done  everything  since  leaving  home  but 
hobo,"  said  he. 

He  reminded  me  of  my  own  experience  through 
South  Carolina  and  Georgia. 

We  made  a  lot  of  noise  getting  into  the  stack, 
and  had  not  more  than  become  comfortable  when 
a  brakeman's  lantern  was  thrust  into  one  end. 

''Hello !  Hello !  in  the  pipe  there,"  he  shouted. 

We  crawled  out  and  asked  him  to  let  us  go, 
but  it  was  "no  go." 

"Give  me  a  dollar  apiece,  or  off  you  go  at  the 
next  stop,"  said  the  brakeman,  and  he  kept  his 


9.0  From  North  Carolina 

word.     We  were  put  down  at  a  little  town  sixteen 
miles  from  Vernon,  Texas. 

We  immediately  set  out  to  walk  to  Vernon,  and 
had  proceeded  along  the  track  about  ten  miles 
when  a  large  farm  wagon  containing  seven  or 
eight  farmers  overtook  us. 

They  were  going  to  Vernon  and  offered  us  a 
ride. 

At  this  time  of  the  year  the  farmers  are  walk- 
ing up  and  doAvn  the  streets  of  Vernon  offering 
as  high  as  $2.00  per  day  and  board  for  men  to 
work  in  the  harvest  fields.  In  fact,  at  no  time 
of  the  year  a  farm  laborer  in  this  part  of  Texas 
is  not  paid  less  than  f  30.00  per  month  and  board. 

I  had  never  heard  of  farm  hands  getting  such 
high  wages,  and  suggested  to  White  that  we  work 
in  Vernon  long  enough  to  pay  our  way  to  Arizona 
or  New  Mexico,  but  like  all  young  fellows  who 
stay  in  the  West  awhile,  he  had  caught  the  fever 
of  roving  and  rambling  from  one  green  pasture 
to  another — content  no  where — and  put  up  a 
strong  kick. 

He  wanted  to  work  in  Vernon  but  a  few  days 
only. 

'^You're  from  the  East,  and  you  know  nothing 
about  good  wages,"  he  said.  ^'Why  this  is  noth- 
ing to  what  we  can  make  in  Roswell,  New  Mexico, 
gathering  apples." 

I  had  heard  of  the  wonderful  apple  orchards 
around  Roswell,  and  then,  too,  the  climate  would 


to  Southern  California.  91 

be  better  for  me.  I  decided  White  was  right,  and 
that  we  would  not  stay  long  in  Vernon. 

Late  that  afternoon  a  ranchman  took  us  out  in 
his  buggy  to  a  ranch  about  five  miles  from  town. 

He  had  offered  us  |2.00  per  day  and  board  to 
shock  wheat. 

Neither  of  us  had  ever  shocked  any  wheat,  but 
he  said  we  could  soon  learn. 

Judging  from  my  companion's  conversation 
since  I  had  met  him,  I  had  a  suspicion  he  was  a 
better  pool  player  than  he  was  wheat  shocker, 
but  the  wealthy  ranch  owners  of  Texas  at  this 
season  of  the  year,  when  their  thousands  of  acres 
of  land  are  lying  in  unshocked  wheat,  are  glad 
enough  to  get  a  man,  even  if  he  is  a  slow  worker 
and  from  the  city. 

Some  time  after  dark  we  came  upon  a  small, 
one-room  hut.  Near  the  hut  was  a  large,  covered 
wagon. 

^'Here's  where  you  sleep,''  said  the  ranchman. 
Just  go  right  in  and  make  your  bed  out  of  wheat." 

Everything  was  very  still  in  the  hut,  consider- 
ing the  fact  that  the  one  room  contained  some  ten 
or  a  dozen  men;  but  the  men  who  had  labored 
long  and  hard  under  the  hot  Texas  sun  that  day 
were  now  scattered  here  and  there  about  the  hut 
floor,  wrapped  in  a  deep,  sweet  sleep.  (Each  of 
these  men  was  from  a  different  city  or  State,  as  I 
afterwards  learned.) 

There  was  plenty  of  wheat  strewn  about  the 


92  From  North  Carolina 

floor  for  us  to  lie  upon,  and  soon  two  other  weary, 
footsore  travelers,  lulled  by  the  soft  breeze  blow- 
ing in  the  window,  had  fallen  easy  victims  to  the 
soothing  caresses  of  Morpheus. 

It  was  about  4  a.  m.  that  we  were  roused  out  of 
bed  by  a  man  announcing  that  breakfast  was 
ready. 

For  once  I  didn't  care  to  eat. 

^^Come  and  get  it,  or  I'll  throw  it  out — Come 
and  get  it  or  I'll  throw  it  out,"  yelled  a  loud  voice 
from  the  vicinity  of  the  wagon. 

"What's  he  going  to  throw  out?"  I  asked  the 
fellow  who  had  disturbed  my  sleep. 

''It's  the  cook  calling  the  men  to  breakfast," 
said  he,  ''and  you'd  better  hurry  if  you  want  any." 

"Where  is  a  place  to  wash?"  I  asked. 

"Over  there  at  the  end  of  the  wagon,"  said  the 
man. 

I  reached  the  spot  and  found  some  seven  or 
eight  men  washing  from  one  small  tin  vessel 
about  half  full  of  soapy  water. 

"Water  is  a  scarce  article  on  the  prairies  and 
but  little  of  the  precious  fluid  is  used  for  washing 
purposes. 

I  washed  the  corners  of  my  eyes,  but  there  was 
no  towel,  comb  nor  brush  to  be  had,  and  I  made 
my  way  to  the  breakfast  table. 

The  table  was  one  long  plank,  supported  at 
either  end  by  a  barrel. 

The' plates,  saucers  and  knives  were  all  made 
of  tin. 


to  Southern  California.  93 

The  grub  was  well  cooked  and  of  good  variety. 
The  table  was  soon  cleared  and  it  was  now  to  the 
wheat  fields. 

On  the  third  day  at  noon  both  White  and  my- 
self had  gotten  enough  of  the  harvest  fields  and, 
receiving  our  pay,  set  out  on  foot  for  Vernon. 

That  night  we  caught  a  passenger  train  and 
beat  it  one  hundred  miles  to  Childress,  Tex., 
where  we  were  put  off. 

But  not  to  stay  long.  An  emigrant,  who  was 
moving  his  household  effects  to  the  Indian  Terri- 
tory, allowed  us  to  get  in  the  car  where  his  fur- 
niture was  and  carried  us  over  two  hundred  miles 
to  Dalhart,  Tex.,  landing  there  late  the  next  day. 

I  parted  with  White  at  Dalhart.  He  had 
changed  his  mind  about  going  to  Eoswell,  and 
now  wanted  to  go  to  Denver,  Colo. 

Two  hours  after  he  had  caught  the  Denver 
train  I  Avas  safely  hid  in  a  coke  car  on  an  El  Paso 
freight  train. 

I  had  no  trouble  in  catching  the  train  at  Dal- 
hart, for  just  as  it  pulled  out  a  rough  fight  took 
place  on  the  depot  platform,  both  parties  using 
firearms,  which  served  momentarily  to  take  atten- 
tion from  me.  It's  doubtful  though  whether  I'd 
have  been  bothered  in  Dalhart  anyway,  for  it  is 
one  of  those  rough  little  Western  towns  'way  up 
in  the  Texas  Panhandle,  in  w^hich  ^^everything 
goes." 


94  From  North  Carolina 

And,  say,  that  was  a  funny  fight,  too.  A  big, 
rough-looking  fellow,  presumably  a  miner,  had 
been  cutting  up  too  much  fuss  on  the  depot  plat- 
form. The  agent  came  out  and  asked  him  to  be 
quiet,  but  instead  of  quieting  him,  he  made  mat- 
ters worse.  The  big  fellow  began  cursing  every- 
body on  the  platform.  A  cop  was  called  and  in 
a  moment  there  was  a  mix  up.  The  cop  pecked 
the  fellow  all  over  the  head  with  his  pistol,  but 
the  miner  gamely  came  back  at  him  with  his  own 
pistol,  neither  of  them  uttering  a  word.  In  a 
few  minutes  blood  was  streaming  from  both.  The 
big  fellow  finally  gave  in  and  put  up  his  gun. 

''Come  on  now,'^  said  the  cop,  grabbing  the  man 
by  the  arm,  and  starting  up  the  street. 

I  was  wondering  where  the  jail  was,  when  to 
my  surprise  the  cop  released  the  man  before  they 
had  gone  a  block. 

The  cop  now  came  back  to  the  depot,  smiling. 

''I  got  rid  o'  him,"  he  said,  but  he  was  mis- 
taken, for  the  other  fellow,  by  this  time,  had  also 
reached  the  depot. 

Walking  up  close  to  the  cop,  he  leered : 

^'Do  you  think  I'm  afraid  of  you?''  and  then 
another  fight,  even  rougher  than  the  other,  began. 

It  was  at  this  juncture,  unobserved,  I  slipped 
into  the  coke  car. 

Within  a  short  time  after  leaving  Dalhart  we 
crossed  the  State  line  into  New  Mexico. 


to  Southern  California.  95 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Across  the  Line  into  Neiv  Mexico — Barren  Sand 
Hills — Jack  Rabbits — Prairie  Dogs — A  Glori- 
ous Sunset,  etc. 

The  train  had  now  entered  a  country  that  is 
simply  indescribable  for  its  bleak  barrenness. 

On  every  hand,  as  far  as  I  could  see,  was  noth- 
ing but  barren  sand  hills,  broken  here  and  there 
by  high  mountain  ridges. 

In  some  places  we  would  go  forty  or  fifty  miles 
without  seeing  a  sign  of  human  habitation,  then 
suddenly  we  would  come  upon  a  small  collection 
of  adobe  huts,  that  is,  huts  built  of  sun-dried, 
mud  bricks. 

These  little  houses  have  a  flat  roof,  and  some 
of  them  are  no  taller  than  a  man's  head.  They 
are  occupied  by  Mexicans  and  Indians. 

A  big  rain  would  destroy  all  these  dwellings; 
but  rain  is  almost  as  scarce  in  this  desolate,  sun- 
baked region  as  snow  is  in  the  Torrid  Zone. 

When  it  does  rain  there  and  a  man's  clothes 
are  wet,  it  takes  but  ten  minutes  for  the  air  to 
dry  him  off  again. 

From  where  I  was  sitting  in  the  door  of  the 
coke  car  thousands  upon  thousands  of  jack  rab- 
bits, cotton  tails  and  prairie  dogs  could  be  seen 
dodging  in  and  out  among  the  rocks  and  cactus 
trees. 


96  From  ISiorth  Carolina 

Once,  just  before  dark  came  on,  a  solitary  cow- 
boy, wearing  high  boots  and  a  big  sombrero, 
mounted  on  a  spirited  young  pony,  dashed  across 
the  tracks  ahead  of  the  train  and  disappeared  be- 
hind the  low  mountain  ridges  toward  the  sun- 
set— and  such  a  grand,  beautiful  sunset  that 
was ! — the  sun  slowly  sinking  behind  the  distant 
mountain  peaks,  and  the  whole  heavens  lit  up 
with  a  perfect  flood  of  golden  beauty,  was  a  scene, 
though  I  live  to  be  a  hundred  years  old,  I  shall 
never  forget. 

Nowhere  else  in  all  the  world,  I  believe,  are  the 
sunsets  so  gloriously  beautiful  as  in  Arizona  or 
New  Mexico. 

Lost  in  spell-bound  admiration  and  silent  re- 
flection, I  sat  in  the  car  door  until  long  after  dark. 

The  night  air  at  home  had  always  given  me 
the  asthma,  but  there  was  no  asthma  feeling 
about  me  now ;  instead  I  felt  that  it  would  be  an 
impossibility  to  wheeze. 

I  inhaled  great  draughts  of  the  dry,  pure  air, 
which  seemed  to  penetrate  to  my  very  toes,  and 
open  every  air  cell  in  my  body. 

Surely  for  those  whose  lungs  are  affected  this 
is  God's  country,  I  thought. 

Then  and  there  I  registered  a  solemn  vow  that 
when  my  parents  were  no  more,  I  should  return 
to  this  country  and  pass  the  remainder  of  my 
days. 

All  of  this  part  of  New  Meixco  is  devoted  to 


to  Southern  California.  97 

sheep  raising.  White  men  are  in  demand  as 
sheep  herders,  and  are  usually  paid  |30.00  per 
month  and  board. 

That  night  I  slept  in  the  coke  car,  and  at  sun- 
up next  morning  we  reached  the  first  large  town 
in  all  the  200-mile  stretch  from  Dalhart — Santa 
Rosa — a  town  of  700  population. 

No  one  discovered  the  poor,  thirsty  hobo  in  the 
coke  car.  ( In  this  country  three  hours  is  a  long 
time  for  a  man  to  do  without  water. )  Inside  of 
an  hour  the  train  had  changed  crews,  another  en- 
gine had  been  coupled  on,  and  the  long  175-mile 
ride  across  the  dreary  waste  to  Alamogordo  (the 
next  division  point)  was  begun. 

During  this  long  ride  there  was  no  change  of 
scenery.  I  never  went  to  the  door  without  see- 
ing thousands  of  jack  rabbits  and  an  occasional 
coyote.  Once  in  a  while  a  large  tarantula  (spider) 
as  large  as  a  man's  hand  could  be  seen  scamper- 
ing among  the  rocks  for  shelter. 

Extreme  thirst  is  caused  by  the  alkali  dust 
which  floats  in  the  air.  Before  the  day  was  over 
my  lips  had  become  a  fiery  red  and  cracked  open, 
and  my  tongue  had  swollen  nearly  twice  its  nor- 
mal size. 

Many  a  poor  hobo  has  been  put  down  in  this 
country  by  a  heartless  brakeman,  and  left  to  die 
on  the  desert,  of  thirst,  but,  as  yet  no  one  on  the 
train  had  seen  me. 

Once,  as  darkness  was  closing  down,  I  heard  a 
7 


98  From  North  Carolina 

brakeman  coming,  and  quickly  crawled  into  the 
back  end  of  the  car,  where  it  was  very  dark. 

Slabs  had  been  nailed  across  the  open  door 
within  two  feet  of  the  top  to  prevent  the  coke 
from  rolling  out. 

The  brakeman  climbed  upon  these  slabs,  and 
taking  up  a  piece  of  coke,  threw  it  into  the  dark 
end  of  the  car,  where  I  was  hiding,  with  consider- 
able force. 

Though  he  could  not  see  me,  his  aim  was  true, 
and  the  coke  struck  me  a  glancing  blow  upon  the 
cheek,  cutting  a  long  gash,  and  starting  the  blood. 

The  pain  was  intense,  and  it  was  all  I  could  do 
to  keep  from  crying  out,  but  the  brakeman,  un- 
conscious of  my  hurt,  hurled  a  piece  of  coke  into 
the  other  end  of  the  car,  and  upon  hearing  no  one, 
sprang  from  the  car  door,  and  soon  his  footsteps 
could  be  heard  going  to  some  other  part  of  the 
train. 

Late  that  night  we  reached  Alamogordo. 

While  here  I  wrote  home  to  my  folks. 

Alamogordo  is  4,000  feet  above  the  sea  level, 
and  has  one  of  the  finest  natural  parks  in  the 
United  States. 

The  town  is  also  noted  for  the  luscious  fruit 
raised  by  the  Mexican  ranchers  nearby. 

My  night's  lodging  was  on  a  large  pile  of  tele- 
graph poles  piled  near  the  railroad. 

No  dew  falls  in  that  country  and  a  good  many 
of  the  people  who  live  there  would  rather  sleep 


to  Southern  California.  99 

on  the  ground  during  the  summer  months  than 
on  a  good  feather  bed.  A  man  can  sleep  on  the 
ground  there  nine  months  in  the  year  without 
taking  a  cold. 

I  left  Alamogordo  the  next  day  on  a  passenger 
train  as  a  '^coal  passenger,"  that  is,  I  had  to  help 
the  fireman  shovel  coal  for  my  fare  to  El  Paso. 

About  half  of  this  trip  lay  in  the  foothills  of 
the  mountains,  and  then  we  reached  the  moun- 
tains proper. 

Gradually  the  train  rose  foot  by  foot  (the  train 
Avas  going  very  slowly  now )  until  we  had  attained 
a  height  of  over  5,000  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
track. 

The  journey  was  now  through  the  clouds,  and 
in  some  places  the  fog  was  so  thick  I  could  not  see 
the  cars  that  were  following  behind  us,  but  in  a 
few  moments  the  spiral  winding  tracks  would 
carry  us  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountains,  where 
the  sun  was  shining  brightly,  and  I  could  see  far 
down  the  beautiful  valleys  to  some  distant  moun- 
tain peak  over  seventy-five  miles  away. 

It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  seen  the  moun- 
tains, and  enraptured  with  their  beauty,  I  forgot 
to  throw  coal  down  for  the  fireman. 

The  engineer,  noticing  my  abstraction,  called: 

"Hey,  come  down  here  a  minute." 

I  crawled  into  the  cab. 

"Where  are  you  from?"  he  asked,  good  na- 
turedly. 


100  From  North  Carolina 

"Vm  from  North  Carolina  working  my  way  to 
Tucson." 

"I  thought  you  were  from  the  East/'  he  said. 
^^How  far  do  you  think  it  is  to  that  mountain 
peak  over  there?'' 

"It  looks  to  be  about  five  miles/'  I  answered. 

"That's  where  this  clear  air  fools  you.  Why 
that  peak  is  over  forty  miles  away/'  he  laughed. 

The  rest  of  this  trip  I  was  treated  exceptionally 
good.  Both  the  fireman  and  engineer  seemed  to 
take  a  delight  in  pointing  out  to  me  things  of 
interest. 

Presently  a  very  high  mountain  caught  my  eye. 

"That's  Mt.  Shasta/'  said  the  fireman.  It's 
over  two  miles  high,  and  snow  lies  up  there  about 
nine  months  in  the  year.  There's  a  railroad  built 
up  there  now/'  he  continued,  "and  its  an  ideal 
summer  resort." 

About  8  or  9  p.  m.  we  reached  El  Paso,  Tex. 

At  one  time,  years  ago,  El  Paso  was  one  of  the 
roughest  border  towns  in  the  West,  but  the  mod- 
ern El  Paso  is  altogether  a  different  town. 

The  population  now  numbers  over  50,000,  of 
which  15  or  20  per  cent  are  Mexicans. 

Just  across  the  Rio  Grande  River  is  the  Mexi- 
can city,  Ciudad  Juarez.  I  spent  nearly  a  day 
in  this  quaint  looking  city.  In  the  center  of  the 
town  is  a  large  park.  Seated  on  one  of  the  beau- 
tiful rustic  benches,  placed  close  together  along 
the  shaded  avenues  of  the  park,  you  are  quite 


to  Southern  California.  101 

free  from  the  "hot,  scorching  sun  beating  down 
overhead.  Just  above  your  head  a  large  frame 
work,  extending  over  the  entire  park,  has  been 
constructed,  and  upon  it  a  thick  growth  of  vines 
and  beautiful  flowers  are  entwined  in  endless 
profusion. 

Wherever  I  spent  a  small  American  coin,  I 
was  sure  to  receive  nearly  a  handful  of  Mexican 
coins  in  change. 

A  toll  bridge  spans  the  river  and  connects  the 
two  cities. 

An  American  collects  the  toll  on  the  El  Paso 
side  and  a  Mexican  on  the  Juarez  side.  It  cost 
me  two  cents  to  cross  each  way. 

While  in  El  Paso  I  heard  a  great  deal  of  talk 
about  the  high  wages  paid  laborers  in  Bisbee, 
Ariz.,  and  as  it  was  only  a  few  miles  out  of  my 
way  going  to  Tucson,  I  decided  to  stop  over  there 
a  few  days. 

I  shoveled  coal  on  an  El  Paso  and  Southwest- 
ern freight  train  from  El  Paso  to  Douglas,  a  dis- 
tance of  200  miles. 

Douglas,  Ariz.,  is  a  small  place  of  about  two 
thousand  population,  and  is  twenty-seven  miles 
from  Bisbee. 

When  we  reached  Douglas  the  engineer  and 
the  fireman  invited  me  to  take  dinner  with  them. 

The  engineer  offered  to  get  me  a  place  in  the 
large  railroad  shops  located  there  as  apprentice 
boy  at  |2.50  per  day,  but  I  told  him  I  would  go 
on  to  Bisbee  and  try  that  town  for  a  job  first. 


102  From  North  Carolina 

In  this  country  a  man  willing  to  work  can 
always  find  dozens  of  jobs  waiting  for  him. 
Nearly  everything  is  white  labor,  and  its  very  sel- 
dom you  are  offered  less  than  |3.50  to  |4.50  per 
day  for  eight  hours  work. 

The  largest  smelter  plant  in  the  world  is  lo- 
cated at  Douglas.  (Its  the  old  plant  removed 
from  Bisbee. ) 

The  ore  train  (heaviest  tonnage  train  in  the 
world)  hauls  the  crude  ore  from  the  mines  in 
Bisbee  to  the  Douglas  smelters. 

I  sta^^ed  over  one  night  in  Douglas,  and  the 
next  morning  at  daylight  caught  the  ore  train 
with  its  long  line  of  empty,  iron-bound  cars, 
bound  for  Bisbee. 

At  Osborne  Junction  a  miner  got  into  the  car 
I  was  in.     He  was  also  going  to  Bisbee. 

We  left  the  cars  on  a  side-track  at  Don  Luis 
and  started  out  to  walk  the  remaining  two  miles 
to  Bisbee,  '^The  Greatest  Mining  Camp  on  Earth." 

My  first  impression  of  Bisbee  was  certainly  not 
a  very  favorable  one. 

The  town  is  surrounded  by  high  mountain 
ranges,  making  a  sewerage  system  next  to  im- 
possible. The  waste  matter  of  Bisbee  is  hauled 
away  in  wooden  boxes  with  teams. 

On  account  of  this  poor  sewerage  Bisbee  suf- 
fers every  summer  with  an  epidemic  of  typhoid 
fever  and  smallpox.  There  is  always  the  presence 
of  a  fearful  stench  upon  the  streets.  All  of  the 
streets  are  very  narrow,  winding  and  short. 


to  Southern  California.  103 

Most  of  the  dwelling  houses  are  built  one  above 
the  other  up  the  mountain  sides,  and  are  reached 
by  narrow,  winding  paths. 

Main  street  and  Brewery  Gulch  are  the  two 
principal  business  streets. 

On  either  of  these  streets,  day  or  night,  one 
always  finds  a  large  crowd  of  miners  and  gam- 
blers— speaking  of  gambling,  Bisbee  is  a  typical 
Western  town  in  this  respect.  There  are  over 
twenty  public  gambling  halls  there.  Every  sa- 
loon has  its  gambling  hall,  and  in  the  rear  a  band 
of  musicians.  The  doors  are  thrown  wide  open 
and  the  window  shades  are  never  drawn. 

Strolling  into  one  of  these  brilliantly  lighted 
dens  of  iniquity,  you'll  find  every  known  gam- 
bling device  under  the  sun.  ^^Dice  throwing," 
"21,"  "Faro,"  "Roulette,"  "Poker"— they  are  all 
there,  and  many  others. 

The  Indian,  Chinaman,  Mexican  and  American 
all  play  at  the  same  table,  and  unless  you  are  a 
good  poker  player  you  had  better  stay  out  of  the 
game. 

In  these  games  the  ante  is  seldom  less  than 
11.00. 

The  people  in  the  Far  West  talk  but  little  while 
the  game  is  going  on.  There  is  no  Avrangling  or 
misunderstanding.  The  cards  are  dealt  quickly 
and  deftly,  and  without  a  word  the  betting  be- 
gins. Sometimes  the  pot  swells  to  a  thousand 
dollars  or  more,  but  even  then  the  same  quiet 
among  the  players  prevails. 


104  From  'North  Carolina 

The  winner  hardly  smiles  as  lie  pockets  his 
money,  and  the  loser,  if  he  goes  broke,  quietly 
gives  up  his  seat  and  some  other  gentleman  take.s 
a  hand. 

On  the  10th  and  12th  of  every  month  the  mines 
around  Bisbee  pay  out  to  the  employees  the  sum 
of  170,000,  so  it  is  no  wonder  the  gambling  halls 
do  a  good  business. 

There  are  no  one  cent  pieces  used  in  Bisbee, 
(not  even  in  the  post-office)  ;  nothing  less  than 
five  cents. 

Bartenders  in  Bisbee  receive  |6.00  for  an  eight- 
hour  shift  serving  drinks. 

There  are  no  colored  people  in  Bisbee. 

Board  and  room  can  be  obtained  for  |30.00  per 
month  and  up.  Clothing  cost  but  little  more 
than  in  the  East. 


to  Southern  California,  105 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Get  a  J  oh  in  a  Law  Office — Dirty  ^  Ragged  Clothes 
Put  Off— Smallpox  Starts  Me  Off  Again. 

It  was  an  afternoon  in  July  that  I  strolled  into 
Bennett  &  Williams'  law  ofiSce  on  Brewery  Gulch 
and  asked  for  a  job. 

A  sign  in  the  window  read : 

^'Stenographer  Wanted.'' 

It  was  in  response  to  this  ad  I  had  entered. 

Right  here  a  description  of  me  might  not  be 
out  of  place. 

My  spring  suit  had  been  ruined,  and  long  since 
discarded  for  a  suit  of  overalls  that  I  had  pur- 
chased in  Dallas.  Hard  knocks  had  rent  them  in 
several  places,  and  they  were  full  of  train  grease. 
My  shoes  were  worn  completely  out.  For  a  hat 
I  was  wearing  a  wide-brimmed  sombrero,  pur- 
chased from  a  Mexican  merchant  at  Alamogordo. 
I  was  strapped  again,  but  that  was  a  thing  I  was 
getting  used  to. 

Taken  all  in  all,  I'm  sure  I  looked  anything  but 
a  stenographer. 

Williams  was  typewriting  when  I  entered  and 
asked  for  the  job. 

He  refused  to  look  at  the  various  references  I 
produced,  saying  they  would  have  no  weight  with 
him,  but  glancing  up  at  me,  broke  out  into  a 
broad  smile. 


106  From  North  Carolina 

"So  you  are  a  shorthand  writer,  eh!  Well, 
come  back  to-morrow  morning  and  I'll  give  you  a 
trial,"  was  the  promise,  but  it  was  quite  easy  to 
see  he  thought  I  was  more  of  a  tramp  than  a 
shorthand  writer. 

Needless  to  say,  though,  I  went  back  at  the 
appointed  time,  and  though  I  failed  miserably  in 
getting  down  the  first  letters  he  dictated,  I  was 
given  the  job. 

''You'll  soon  get  back  in  practice,"  he  said, 
''and  when  you  do,  your  salary  Avill  be  |125.00 
per  month." 

Three  days  later,  as  I  began  to  improve,  Wil- 
liams bought  me  flT.OO  wortb  of  clothes  and  a 
nice  dress  suit  case.  I  was  also  given  a  $5.00 
meal  ticket  on  the  English  Kitchen,  and  room 
rent  was  paid  for  me  one  month  in  advance  at  the 
LeGrand  Hotel.  Both  my  employers  provided  me 
with  spending  money  from  time  to  time,  but  the 
most  of  this  money  I  saved. 

I  had  been  in  Bisbee  nearly  three  weeks  when 
several  cases  of  smallpox  and  typhoid  fever  broke 
out. 

Two  cases  of  smallpox  broke  out  in  the  Le 
drand  Hotel. 

Several  people  deserted  the  town  post-haste, 
and  among  the  number  was  myself. 

I  resigned  my  position  as  stenographer,  and 
bidding  my  kindhearted  employers  and  other 
friends  good-bye,  I  purchased  a  ticket  to  Tucson. 


to  Southern  California,  107 

It  took  nearly  all  my  money  to  buy  this  ticket, 
but  I  didn't  like  the  idea  of  hoboing  to  the  town 
I  was  to  make  my  future  home  in. 

I  would,  at  least,  have  plenty  of  nice  clothes 
when  I  got  there,  and  if  it  came  to  a  pinch  about 
getting  something  to  eat,  I  could  sell  some  of  my 
clothing. 

The  first  thing  that  met  me  when  I  stepped 
from  the  train  in  Tucson  was  a  sandstorm,  fill- 
ing my  eyes,  ears  and  nose  full  of  fine  dust  and 
covering  my  clothes.  (Sandstorms  are  of  com- 
mon occurrence  in  this  section.) 

It  is  a  good  deal  warmer  in  Tucson  at  all  times 
than  at  Bisbee,  for  Tucson  is  2,000  feet  lower. 
Tucson  is  on  the  Southern  Pacific  Railroad,  and 
is  but  a  few  miles  from  the  line  of  Old  Mexico. 

Climatic  conditions  render  it  a  most  desirable 
place  to  live,  but  owing  to  Mexican  labor  compe- 
tition wages  are  not  as  good  as  at  Bisbee.  In 
Tucson  the  laboring  man  receives  but  |2.50  per 
day  for  eight  hours.  ( This  is  just  twice  what  is 
paid  a  laborer  in  North  Carolina,  South  Carolina, 
or  Virginia,  however.) 

Board  is  cheap  in  Tucson,  |5.00  per  week  and 
up. 

In  the  West  Tucson  is  called  the  '"lunger"  town. 
The  name  comes  from  the  large  number  of  people 
who  visit  Tucson,  every  winter  from  all  parts  of 
the  United  States  for  lung  troubles. 


108  From  North  Carolina 

It  is  never  cold  enough  in  Tucson  to  wear  an 
overcoat. 

There  are  more  hotels  and  boarding-houses 
there  than  in  any  other  city  of  its  size  on  the 
globe. 

One  hotel  has  a  large  sign  up  which  reads : 

^^Any  Day  that  the  Sun  Fails  to  Shine  Upon 
this  Hotel,  we  will  Give  Our  Guests  Free  Board.'' 

It's  very  seldom  they  have  to  give  away  any  of 
their  free  board. 


to  Southern  California.  109 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

''For  God's  Sake,  Give  Me  a  Drop  of  Water/' 

I  stayed  in  Tucson  one  night,  and  while  knock- 
ing about  the  streets  the  next  day  I  met  a  young 
man  down  at  the  depot  who  introduced  himself 
as  J.  C.  Allen,  from  some  town  in  the  East,  which 
I  have  forgotten. 

Allen  had  landed  in  Tucson  but  a  few  days  be- 
fore with  about  the  same  intentions  I  had,  but 
for  some  reason  had  taken  a  violent  dislike  to  the 
town,  and  now  wanted  to  go  to  Los  Angeles. 

I  had  caught  the  fever  of  traveling  pretty  hard 
myself  now,  and  as  Allen  was  a  sociable  sort  of 
chap  as  well  as  a  good  talker,  it  didn't  take  him 
long  to  convince  me  that  Tucson  was  a  poor  town 
for  us  to  remain  in.  Then,  as  two  young  fellows 
will,  we  soon  came  to  an  understanding  that  we 
would  stick  by  each  other  through  thick  and  thin 
and  work  our  way  to  Los  Angeles,  Cal. 

Like  most  fellows  who  stay  in  the  West  long, 
Allen  was  a  great  bull-con  man  (hot  air  man). 

He  told  me  they  were  already  picking  oranges 
around  Los  Angeles,  and  paying  pickers  the  high- 
est kind  of  prices. 

My  own  common  sense  ought  to  have  told  me 
that  this  wasn't  true,  and  that  Allen  merely 
wanted  me  to  go  with  him  for  company,  but  I 
hadn't  been  in  the  West  long,  and  the  poorest 
kind  of  bull-con  dealer  found  in  me  an  easy  mark. 


110  From  North  Carolina 

I  readily  became  as  anxious  to  reach  Los  An- 
geles as  Allen  himself. 

^^How  do  you  propose  going?"  I  asked. 

"A  Mexican  railroad  foreman  is  going  to  ship 
me  to  Gila  City,  Ariz.,  to-night  to  do  construction 
work,  and  I'll  try  to  get  him  to  ship  you  too,''  he 
promised. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  the  Mexican  in  question 
showed  up  at  the  depot. 

Allen  took  him  aside  and  had  a  long  talk  with 
him,  during  which  time  the  Mexican  glanced  at 
me  several  times.  Finally  he  got  up  and  went 
into  the  depot. 

Allen  now  hurried  over  to  me. 

" the  luck,"  he  exclaimed,  ^  Vhat  are  you 

wearing  that  w^hite  collar  for?"  The  Mexican 
has  gone  after  me  a  pass,  but  he  says  you  look  too 
sporty. 

^^Hurry  to  your  stopping  place,  quick !  and  get 
off  them  togs  and  I'll  try  him  again." 

I  had  put  up  within  a  block  of  the  depot,  and 
in  a  short  time  I  had  made  the  change  and  re- 
turned, bringing  my  dress  suit  case. 

Allen  had  already  received  his  pass  and  was 
anxiously  waiting  for  me. 

"Hide  your  dress  suit  case !"  he  whispered. 

I  had  barely  done  so  when  the  Mexican  came 
out  of  the  depot. 

It  was  nearly  dark  now  and  there  was  a  surg- 
ing crowd  of  ladies  and  men  on  the  depot  yards 
waiting  to  meet  the  incoming  train. 


to  Southern  Califorfiia.  Ill 

Allen  pushed  his  way  through  the  crowd  and 
once  more  directed  the  Mexican's  attention  to- 
wards me. 

The  Mexican  had  no  sooner  glanced  at  me  than 
he  took  out  a  pencil  and  wrote  something  on 
Allen's  pass.  A  few  moments  later  he  left  the 
depot  and  went  hurrying  up  the  street ;  and  Allen 
approached  me  with  a  smile. 

Upon  his  pass  had  been  scrawled  the  two  words, 
^'And  friend." 

Shortly  after,  we  were  comfortably  seated  in  a 
Southern  Pacific  passenger  coach  and  bound  far 
out  upon  the  desert  to  Gila  City,  180  miles  away. 

Allen  had  but  thirty-five  cents,  while  I  was 
again  stranded  without  a  penny. 

Just  as  day  was  breaking  we  were  roused  by 
the  conductor  and  put  down  at  Gila  City. 

Its  an  unusual  thing  for  a  passenger  to  get  on 
or  off  at  Gila  City. 

Some  of  the  passengers  straightened  up  in 
their  seats  and  watched  us  with  interest,  as  we 
slowly  got  our  things  together  and  left  the  car 
at  this  desolate  spot,  located  almost  in  the  very 
middle  of  the  desert. 

We  were  yet  300  miles  from  Los  Angeles, 
though  Yuma,  the  next  town,  was  but  twenty 
miles  away. 

Gila  City  contains  one  small  store,  about  the 
size  of  a  man's  hand ;  two  small  dwellings,  and  a 
miniature  depot.  The  population  numbers  but 
four  or  five  people. 


112  From  'North  Carolina 

One  tiling  is  plentiful  there,  though — long- 
eared  jack  rabbits  and  cotton  tails  by  the  thou- 
sand. This  section  abounds  with  thousands  of 
quail,  too,  and  on  warm  days  not  a  few  rattle- 
snakes can  be  seen  sunning  in  the  desert. 

The  shanty  cars  of  the  construction  company 
stood  on  the  side-track,  and  as  there  was  nothing 
else  to  do  we  went  over  to  them. 

The  men  were  already  up  and  the  section  fore- 
man's wife  was  preparing  breakfast. 

We  told  the  foreman  that  the  Mexican  had 
sent  us  down  from  Tucson,  and  were  engaged  by 
him  at  |1.50  per  day  and  board. 

Presently  we  were  invited  into  one  of  the  cars 
for  breakfast. 

The  men  seated  around  that  table  presented  a 
picture  seldom  seen.  Besides  Allen  and  myself, 
there  were  three  dark-skinned  Mexicans,  a  half- 
breed  Indian,  the  foreman,  who  was  a  Texan,  and 
two  ex-cowpunchers,  besides  an  Irishman  and  a 
Chinaman. 

As  for  the  breakfast  itself,  I  have  never  eaten 
better  grub  anywhere,  and  the  cooking  was  splen- 
did. Notwithstanding  the  motley  crew  around 
us,  both  Allen  and  myself  made  a  hearty  meal. 

The  teams  were  soon  hitched,  and  after  proceed- 
ing down  the  track  about  a  mile  the  day's  work 
commenced. 

I  was  given  a  scraper  team  to  drive,  and  Allen 
was  put  at  pick  and  shovel  w^ork. 


to  Southern  California.  113 

As  soon  as  the  sun  rose  it  quickly  got  hot,  and 
by  8  o'clock  it  began  to  sting  through  our  clothes. 
At  10  o'clock  the  heat  was  so  intense  that  all 
hands  quit  work  and  went  back  to  the  shade  of 
the  shanty  cars. 

Neither  Allen  nor  myself  had  ever  worked 
under  such  a  hot  sun  before.  Both  of  us  came 
near  fainting,  and  even  when  we  reached  the 
shanties,  perspiration  was  still  running  from 
every  pore. 

All  work  was  suspended  until  4  p.  m.  ( In  this 
part  of  the  world,  owing  to  the  intense  heat,  a 
day's  work  commences  at  5  a.  m.  and  lasts  until 
10  a.  m.  In  the  middle  of  the  day  you  take  a  six 
hours'  rest.  Commencing  work  again  at  4  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon  you  work  until  7  p.  m.,  making 
an  eight-hour  day.) 

On  the  morning  of  the  second  day,  Allen  got 
pretty  badly  hurt.  A  big  bowlder,  becoming  dis- 
lodged from  above  his  head,  rolled  down  the  cliff 
where  he  was  at  work,  and  struck  him  a  painful 
blow  upon  the  back  of  his  hand.  Already  over- 
heated from  exertion  in  the  hot  sun,  his  injured 
hand  threw  him  into  a  hard  chill,  and  he  was 
forced  to  quit  work. 

Some  of  the  Mexicans  and  others  standing 
around  began  laughing  as  if  they  thought  it  a 
great  joke. 

The   foreman,    instead   of   sympathizing  with 
him,  joined  in  the  laugh.     (The  entire  gang  had 
put  us  down  as  tenderfeet.) 
8 


114  From  North  Carolina 

There  was  no  use  getting  mad,  for  these  tough- 
looking  chaps  were  too  many  for  us,  and  we  did 
the  next  best  thing. 

We  gave  up  our  job  and  walked  back  to  the 
shanties. 

At  10  o'clock  the  men  came  in  for  dinner,  when 
we  informed  the  foreman  that  we  had  thrown  up 
our  job  and  that  he  could  settle  with  us. 

''Settle  nothing,"  said  the  big  fellow,  laughing. 
''You've  not  worked  enough  to  pay  your  fare 
from  Tucson  yet.  You  can  get  your  dinner  here, 
and  after  that,  meals  are  fifty  cents  apiece,  if  you 
dine  in  these  cars." 

We  walked  over  to  the  little  store  with  the  in- 
tention of  investing  Allen's  thirty-five  cents  in 
groceries  for  our  dinner,  but  there  was  nothing 
doing. 

The  man's  stock  consisted  mostly  of  pop  and 
cigars,  which  articles  he  probably  got  from  Los 
Angeles. 

"How  much  for  pop?"  I  asked. 

"Fifteen  cents  a  bottle,"  was  the  reply. 

A  barrel  of  ginger  snaps  stood  in  one  corner  of 
the  store. 

"How  much  a  pound?"  I  asked,  giving  the 
cakes  a  wistful  look. 

"Twenty-five  cents  a  pound,"  said  the  grocer. 

We  left  the  store  without  purchasing  anything 
and  made  our  way  back  to  the  cars,  forced  to  ac- 
cept the  ill-given  hospitality  of  the  section  fore- 
man. 


to  Southern  California,  115 

That  afternoon  a  lucky  thought  came  to  me. 
We  yet  had  plenty  of  clothing,  and  why  not  auc- 
tion it  off? 

In  my  grip  was  a  mouth  harp  that  I  had  bought 
in  Bisbee. 

xVllen,  who  was  a  good  harmonica  player,  struck 
up  several  lively  airs,  and  in  a  few  minutes  every 
man  in  the  camp  had  gathered  around  us,  includ- 
ing the  foreman. 

Some  were  popping  and  slapping  their  hands 
in  applause,  and  others  were  dancing  jigs  in  time 
to  the  music. 

I  gave  Allen  the  signal  to  stop  and,  opening  up 
both  our  grips,  began  auctioneering  off  small 
pieces  of  goods. 

Every  thing  put  up  was  sold  to  advantage, 
though  the  smaller  articles  brought  the  best 
prices. 

The  harmonica,  which  had  cost  me  twenty-five 
cents,  caused  the  liveliest  bidding,  and  was 
finally  knocked  down  to  a  cowboy  for  eighty  cents. 

The  foreman  secured  a  nice  comb  and  brush  at 
a  bargain,  and  was  so  well  pleased  with  the  music 
he  invited  us  to  take  supper  with  him,  and  to  play 
the  harmonica  again  for  him  and  his  wife. 

About  nine  o'clock  that  night  a  freight  train 
stopped  in  Gila  City,  which  we  boarded  with  our 
grips  and  easily  beat  to  Yuma. 

Yuma  has  a  population  of  7,000  Indians,  Mexi- 
cans and  Americans,  and  like  Bisbee,  gambling 
forms  a  part  of  the  revenue  of  the  saloons. 


116 


From  North  Carolina 


to  Southerfi  California.  117 

Most  of  the  houses  in  Yuma  are  built  of  wood 
or  brick,  though  there  are  a  good  many  adobe 
houses  occupied  by  the  poorer  classes. 

Some  claim  Yuma  is  fifty  feet  above  the  sea 
level ;  others  say  it  is  one  hundred  and  fifty  below 
the  sea  level.  I  don't  know  which  of  these  state- 
ments is  correct,  but  I  do  know  that  Yuma  is 
by  far  the  hottest  town  I  was  ever  in.  As  early 
as  half-past  seven  o'clock  next  morning  the  sun 
began  to  get  uncomfortably  hot,  and  by  nine 
o'clock  both  Allen  and  myself  were  suffering  from 
the  heat. 

We  spent  the  biggest  part  of  the  day  in  the 
shade  of  the  large  Reservoir  building  opposite  the 
depot,  and  but  a  few  feet  from  the  Colorado  River. 

That  night  a  Mexican  living  in  one  of  the  adobe 
houses  near  the  railroad  yards  supplied  each  of 
us  with  a  large  bottle  of  water  for  the  long  two 
hundred  and  eighty  mile  journey  across  the 
desert,  but  in  dodging  the  brakemen  while  at- 
tempting to  board  a  Los  Angeles  freight  train,  we 
became  separated  and  it  was  the  last  I  ever  saw  of 
my  friend  Allen. 

I  managed  to  hide  in  a  car  loaded  with  scrap 
iron. 

Only  once  did  I  leave  this  car.  We  reached 
the  first  division  point,  Indio,  Cal.,  about  3  o'clock 
in  the  morning. 

My  bottle  of  water  had  long  since  run  dry,  and 
I  was  once  more  beginning  to  suffer  the  acute 
pangs  of  desert  thirst.     With  as  little  noise  as 


118  From  North  Carolina 

possible,  I  slipped  from  the  car  and  into  the 
pump  house  (which  is  about  the  only  building 
of  any  kind  that  Indio  contains).  In  fact,  be- 
tween Yuma  and  Indio,  for  a  distance  of  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles,  there  isn't  a  single  town — 
nothing  but  desert  and  cactus  trees. 

The  man  in  the  pump  house  filled  my  bottle 
from  a  hydrant,  and  taking  a  big  drink  from  a 
large  tin  cup,  which  I  also  filled  from  the  hy- 
drant, I  hurried  through  the  darkness  to  the 
scrap  iron  car  nearly  a  half  mile  down  the  track. 

I  was  about  crawling  in,  when  a  low  groan 
from  under  the  car  attracted  my  attention. 

Peering  under  the  car,  I  was  amazed  to  see  a 
man  on  the  rods. 

'Tor  God's  sake  give  me  a  drop  of  water,"  he 
begged  piteously. 

I  passed  him  the  bottle  of  water,  and  invited 

The  poor  fellow  eagerly  took  a  long  pull  at  it, 
him  to  drink  half  of  it. 

passing  it  back  scarcely  half  full,  with  a  grateful 
"Thank  you." 

'^I  could  drink  five  bottles  like  that,"  he  said, 
smacking  his  lips. 

The  train  now  started,  preventing  further  con- 
versation, and  I  quickly  crawled  back  into  the 
scrap  iron  car. 

The  next  day  about  11  a.  m.  we  pulled  into  the 
yards  at  Los  Angeles. 

As  soon  as  the  train  stopped  in  the  yards  I 
jumped  out  of  the  car  and  looked  for  the  man  on 
the  rods,  but  he  was  gone. 


to  Southern  California.  119 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Throtvn  Into  Jail  at  Los  Angeles. 

Upon  seeing  no  one  near,  I  lifted  my  grip  from 
tlie  car  door  and  started  down  town  in  search  of 
a  lodging  place.  I  found  a  nice  place  at  No.  128 
E.  First  street,  and  the  following  day  I  got  a 
job  with  the  S.  P.  Railroad  Company,  trucking 
freight  at  20  cents  per  hour. 

Los  Angeles  is  probably  the  greatest  fruit  mar- 
ket in  the  world.  Oranges,  grapes,  peaches  and 
apricots  are  among  the  principal  fruits  raised. 

During  the  orange  season  you  can  buy  oranges 
for  ten  cents  per  dozen.  A  careful  estimate 
places  the  number  of  oranges  grown  in  California 
every  year  at  900,000,000.  All  fruit  is  cheap. 
The  finest  kind  of  malaga  grapes  can  be  pur- 
chased on  the  streets  of  Los  Angeles  for  2^  cents 
per  pound.  You  can  live  on  fruit  there  over  six 
months  in  the  year. 

The  winters  there  are  no  ways  as  cold  as  in 
North  Carolina. 

The  rainfall  is  scarcely  ten  inches  a  year,  mak- 
ing it  possible  for  the  laboring  man  to  work  out 
doors  every  working  day  in  the  year. 

Laborers  get  |1.75  to  |2.50  per  day,  and  are 
always  in  demand. 

There  are  numerous  restaurants  in  Los  Angeles 
that  set  out  a  good,  substantial  meal  for  ten  cents. 

San  Pedro  is  the  port  of  entry  for  Los  Angeles. 


120  From,  North  Carolina 

With  the  exception  of  Chicago,  Los  Angeles 
contains  more  employment  bureaus  than  any 
other  city  in  the  United  States. 

TMiile  standing  in  one  of  these  labor  bureaus  a 
few  days  later,  I  learned  that  a  certain  hotel  in 
San  Pedro  wanted  a  hotel  clerk.  I  gave  up  my 
job  trucking  freight  and  took  the  street  car  for 
San  Pedro. 

After  having  a  short  talk  and  showing  my 
references  to  Jennings  and  White,  proprietors  of 
the  Angelus  Hotel,  I  was  offered  the  place  as 
clerk  at  $15.00  per  month,  board  and  room. 

I  accepted  the  position. 

The  little  town  of  San  Pedro  bears  the  distinc- 
tion of  being  one  of  the  nine  corners  of  the 
world. 

The  Pacific  Ocean  is  in  full  view  from  the  front 
entrance  of  the  Angelus  Hotel. 

From  this  point  it  is  only  a  two-hours  run  on 
the  steamboat  Cabrillo  to  the  famous  fishing- 
grounds  of  Santa  Catalina  Island. 

If  you  are  a  good  fisherman  with  hook  and 
line,  two  hours  in  these  waters  will  supply  you 
with  from  seventj^-five  to  one  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds  of  fish. 

I  had  been  clerking  for  Jennings  &  White 
about  six  weeks,  when  one  day  a  man  registered 
in  the  hotel  from  Searchlight,  Nevada. 

The  man  praised  up  Searchlight  in  glowing 
terms. 


to  Southern  California.  121 

^^Everjthing  in  Searchliglit  is  on  a  boom/'  said 
he.  ^^Wages  are  good,  and  it's  the  very  place  for 
a  young  man  to  make  mone}^" 

I  was  not  making  anything  and  had  already 
grown  tired  of  the  little,  sleepy  town  of  San 
Pedro. 

The  fever  of  travel  was  once  more  infused 
within  me. 

I  would  go  to  Searchlight,  and  if  I  found  it  like 
the  man  had  said,  I  promised  m^^self  I  would 
settle  down  there  and  stop  traveling  about. 

To  hold  my  position  as  clerk  in  the  hotel  I  had 
been  compelled  to  invest  all  of  my  small  salary  in 
clothing. 

When  I  resigned  the  job  I  had  saved  just  |2.00. 

Mr.  Jennings  said  I  was  doing  a  bad  thing 
starting  to  Searchlight  broke,  and  that  he  would 
give  me  a  letter  of  reference  to  a  Los  Angeles 
street  car  Superintendent.  I  reproduce  his  let- 
ter in  this  book,  though  I  never  used  it,  for  I  was 
bent  now  upon  going  to  Searchlight,  and  that 
afternoon  took  the  car  for  Los  Angeles. 

I  knocked  about  the  streets  of  Los  Angeles 
three  or  four  daj^s  trying  to  get  up  courage  to  be- 
gin beating  trains  again. 

During  my  six  weeks  of  ease  and  contentment 
at  the  hotel  I  had  grown  almost  as  timid  as  when 
I  first  left  home. 

Hardly  before  I  knew  it  I  was  stranded  in  Los 
Angeles  without  a  penny. 


122  From  North  Carolina 

My  grip  had  been  left  in  charge  of  Jennings  & 
White,  to  be  forwarded  to  me  in  case  I  reached 
Searchlight  safely. 

I  told  some  kind-hearted  gentleman  on  the 
street  of  my  trouble,  and  he  kindly  advised  me  to 
apply  to  the  Los  Angeles  Chief  of  Police. 

''He'll  get  you  a  place  to  sleep  to-night/'  said 
the  man,  giving  me  the  street  and  number  of  the 
Chief's  office. 

I  lost  sight  of  the  fact  that  I  was  again  dressed 
for  hoboing  the  railroad,  and  that  the  chief  might 
be  unfavorably  impressed  with  my  appearance. 

I  reached  his  office,  which  was  located  in  a 
large  stone  building,  just  after  nightfall. 

He  listened  to  my  story  a  moment  or  so,  but 
instead  of  furnishing  me  with  an  address  and  the 
wherewithal  to  obtain  a  night's  sleep  at  some 
lodging  house,  he  tapped  a  bell  on  the  desk. 

The  next  moment  a  blue  coat  entered  the  office. 

I  now  began  to  grow  suspicious,  but  it  was  too 
late. 

''Take  that  man  around  for  a  night's  lodging," 
said  the  Chief,  and  before  I  could  gather  my  wits 
I  was  whisked  from  the  Chiefs  presence  into 
another  department. 

"Search  the  prisoner,"  commanded  the  pom- 
pous looking  individual  presiding  in  this  office. 

The  cop  searched  my  pockets  and  all  my  things 
were  put  in  a  large  envelope,  sealed  and  locked 
in  a  large  iron  safe. 

I  now  found  my  tongue  and  began  using  it 


to  Southern  California.  123 

pretty  loud.  The  disgrace  of  spending  a  night  in 
jail  seemed  more  than  I  could  bear. 

''Turn  me  loose,  I  don't  want  lodging.  Please 
let  me  go,"  I  cried. 

But  it  was  no  go. 

''Dry  up  there!  came  the  command.  "If  the 
Chief  hears  you,  you  may  get  thrown  in  a  year 
for  yagrancy." 

I  could  have  'phoned  to  Jennings  &  White,  and 
no  doubt  they  could  have  gotten  me  out  of  the 
scrape,  but  I  was  ashamed  for  them  to  know  of 
my  predicament,  and  kept  quiet. 

A  large  book  was  thrust  at  me. 

"Sign  your  name!"  came  the  command. 

Anyone  looking  over  the  Los  Angeles  records 
for  1906  will  find  the  name  "Robert  Smith," 
signed  for  a  night's  lodging. 

The  city  prison  was  in  the  back  of  the  building, 
and  a  short  time  later  I  was  locked  behind  the 
bars  in  an  iron-bound  cell  containing  twenty  or 
more  prisoners. 

Within  ten  minutes  every  man  of  them  had 
asked  me  what  I  had  been  "run  in"  for. 

"You're  liable  to  be  kept  in  here  several  months 
for  vagrancy,"  said  the  prisoners. 

I'll  not  dwell  upon  the  horrors  of  that  night. 
I  didn't  sleep  a  wink  throughout  the  long  night, 
and  was  wideawake  next  morning  at  six  o'clock 
when  the  prison  warden  approached  the  cage 
door  and  shouted : 

"Robert  Smith"— 


124 


From  North  Carolina 


'Robert   Smith — is   Robert     Smith    in    theie?''    shouted    the 
prison  warden. 


to  Southern  California.  125 

^^Robert  Smith  in  there?"  he  called  to  some  of 
the  prisoners  a  moment  later. 

I  sprang  up.  I  had  forgotten  that  I  had  signed 
Robert  Smith  on  the  books. 

^'I'm  the  man !"  I  cried,  and  five  minutes  later  I 
was  a  free  man,  again  breathing  the  pure,  fresh 
air  of  the  outside  world. 

With  rapid  footsteps  I  hurried  from  this  un- 
pleasant locality  and  made  my  way  down  town. 

At  the  time  I  write  the  railroad  hadn't  yet 
reached  Searchlight. 

The  nearest  point  of  construction  was  Manvel, 
Cal.,  twenty-three  miles  away. 

By  mere  good  fortune  I  learned  that  morning 
that  the  railroad  company  was  shipping  men 
through  the  Red  Cross  Employment  Bureau  to 
Manvel  for  construction  work. 

I  lost  no  time  in  visiting  the  Red  Cross  Agency, 
and  was  given  a  pass  over  the  Sante  Fe  Railroad 
to  Manvel. 

There  were  thirty-odd  men  in  the  crew  I 
shipped  with,  mostly  foreigners. 

We  rode  all  night,  and  about  12  o'clock  next 
day  we  reached  Manvel. 

By  keeping  my  eyes  and  ears  open  along  the 
trip  I  easily  spotted  the  men  who  had  shipped 
out  of  Los  Angeles  as  a  means  of  reaching  Search- 
light. 

At  midnight  when  the  rest  of  the  camp  was 
wrapped  in  deep  slumber  six  men  silently  stole 


126  From  Islortli  Carolina 

from  the  tents  and  struck  out  across  the  desert 
for  Searchlight. 

The  lights  of  the  town  could  be  plainly  seen 
from  the  railroad  camps,  and  it  hardly  seemed 
possible  that  those  bright  looking  lights  were 
twenty-three  miles  across  the  desert. 

Footsore,  thirsty  and  tired  we  reached  Search- 
light next  morning. 

Searchlight  contains  fifteen  business  houses, 
and  eleven  of  them  are  saloons,  though  its  a  very 
quiet  and  well-governed  little  town,  and  about 
the  only  excitement  is  when  some  lucky  prospec- 
tor arrives  with  rich  specimens  of  gold  ore,  dis- 
covered somewhere  nearby  in  the  surrounding 
desert — and  this  happens  quite  often.  While  I 
was  there  Mike  Walsh,  a  very  poor  man,  dis- 
covered a  rich  s^old  claim  three  miles  north  of 
Searchlight  and  sold  it  for  |10,000. 

Any  one  can  prospect  if  he's  able  to  buy  a  grub 
stake.  Eighty  dollars  will  buy  two  burros  and 
a  three-months'  grub  stake  for  two  men,  and  but 
little  trouble  is  experienced  in  finding  some 
veteran  prospector  who'll  accompany  you  in 
search  for  gold  on  halves. 

There  are  several  good  paying  gold  mines 
within  a  half  mile  of  the  town. 

One  gold  mine  there  is  in  full  operation  within 
thirty  feet  of  Main  street.  It  is  worked  by  only 
three  young  men,  who  are  the  owners,  and  it  is 
supposed  they  are  making  a  small  fortune. 


to  Southern  California.  127 

I  got  a  job  with  Cook  &  Co.  assisting  to  survey 
town  lots,  for  which  I  was  paid  |3.50  per  day. 

Later  on  I  got  a  job  with  Mr.  Fred.  Ullman, 
proprietor  of  the  Searchlight  Hotel.  I  was  taken 
on  as  porter  in  the  bar-room  and  hotel,  but  upon 
learning  to  mix  drinks,  I  was  engaged  as  bar- 
tender, which  job  I  held  until  Mr.  Ullman  sold 
out  a  few  weeks  later  to  a  firm  in  Los  Angeles. 

This  threw  me  out  of  a  job,  but  out  of  my  sal- 
ary I  had  placed  |50.00  in  the  Searchlight  Bank. 

I  now  took  a  job  at  Doc's  Kitchen  washing 
dishes  at  two  dollars  and  seventy-five  cents  per 
day. 

While  engaged  in  this  work  my  brother  wrote 
me  a  long  letter  from  home,  saying  they  were  all 
very  anxious  to  see  me  and  that  mother  had  been 
taken  seriously  ill,  w^orrying  about  me. 

For  the  first  time  since  leaving  home  I  began 
to  feel  homesick,  so  much  so  I  had  to  give  up 
my  job. 

I  decided  to  make  a  short  visit  to  San  Francisco 
and  then  start  home. 

I  bought  a  stage  ticket  to  Nipton,  Cal.,  and 
from  that  point  purchased  a  ticket  to  Los  Angeles. 
Next  day  I  shipped  from  Los  Angeles  to  Weed, 
Cal.  Weed  is  in  the  Siskiyou  Mountains,  six 
hundred  miles  from  Los  Angeles.  I  deserted  the 
train  at  Stockton,  Cal.,  with  another  young  fel- 
low, and  we  took  the  boat  from  this  point  to 
'Frisco. 


128  From  North  Carolina 

By  this  manoeuTering  I  saved  nearly  half  the 
fare  from  Searchlight  to  San  Francisco. 

I  had  a  hard  time  finding  a  lodging  house  in 
'Frisco,  for  over  four-fifths  of  the  hotels  had  gone 
up  in  the  big  fire.  After  several  hours  of  weary 
tramping  about  the  streets,  I  found  the  St. 
George  Hotel,  a  large  frame  building,  erected 
temporarily  on  Mission  street. 

Lodging  in  'Frisco  was  high  and  board  brought 
fabulous  prices. 

Two  weeks  later  I  awoke  to  the  realization  that 
my  $50.00  had  dwindled  to  |5.00. 

Part  of  this  money  had  gone  for  a  new  suit  of 
clothes,  but  the  other  had  been  spent  for  living 
expenses. 

I  couldn't  start  for  home  with  but  |5.00,  and 
only  one  other  course  was  left — I  must  go  to 
work.  I  didn't  care  to  work  in  'Frisco,  though, 
for  it  was  only  skilled  labor  that  was  command- 
ing high  prices. 

I  met  a  young  man  in  the  hotel,  P.  A.  Franck, 
from  No.  3851  Juniata  street,  St.  Louis,  Mo., 
who  had  left  his  St.  Louis  home  to  make  a  for- 
tune in  San  Francisco,  but  disappointed  with  the 
poor  wages  paid  for  labor  in  'Frisco  compared 
with  the  high  cost  of  living  expenses,  he  readily 
agreed  to  leave  with  me. 

Murray  &  Keady's  Employment  Bureau,  on 
Tenth  and  Market  streets,  shipped  us  three  hun- 
dred miles  to  the  Sugar  Pine  Mountains,  in  cen- 
tral California  to  work  at  a  saw-mill. 


to  ^outhet'n  California.  129 

We  left  the  train  at  Madera,  Cal.,  at  which 
town  was  located  the  Sugar  Pine  Company's 
office. 

From  Madera  we  took  a  sixty-mile  stage  ride 
through  the  Sugar  Pine  Mountains  to  the  saw- 
mill, arriving  there  late  one  afternoon. 

That  night  we  learned  that  the  mill  owners 
had  decided  to  close  down  the  mill  until  the  fol- 
lowing spring,  and  that,  if  we  went  to  work,  in 
all  probability  the  job  would  give  out  by  the  time 
we  had  worked  out  our  fare  from  San  Francisco. 

That  night  we  slept  on  the  bare  floor  of  a  little 
log  hut  up  the  mountain  side,  the  man  in  the 
company  store  saying  all  his  bed  covering  had 
been  sold  out. 

The  next  morning  we  were  both  frozen  nearly 
stiff ;  we  awoke  before  light  and  struck  the  trail 
back  to  Madera. 

I  had  a  thirty-pound  grip  of  clothing  and 
Franck  was  weighted  down  with  a  still  heavier 
grip  and  an  overcoat. 

All  day  long  we  tramped  over  the  mountains, 
and  all  the  following  night. 

By  morning  of  the  second  day  we  were  making 
scarcely  a  mile  an  hour,  and  were  so  near  played 
out  we  w^ere  forced  to  rest  every  ten  or  fifteen 
minutes.  Once  Franck's  shoe  became  untied,  and 
in  stooping  to  tie  it  he  pitched  heavily  forward 
upon  his  hands  and  knees. 

Only  once  did  we  get  anything  to  eat,  the  half- 


130 


From  North  Carolina 


O^/ry 


THE  HOMEWARD  JOURNEY. 


Gooy-by,  dear  old  Arizona. 
Good-by,  sunny  California. 

(Pro  tern)   to  you  both. 


to  Southern  California'.  131 

way  house  sold  us  a  scanty  meal  for  50  cents 
each. 

At  last,  scarcely  able  to  stand  up,  we  reached 
Madera. 

Afraid  that  the  Sugar  Pine  Company  would 
indict  us  for  desertintj:,  we  spent  our  last  penny 
for  a  ticket  to  Fresno,  Cal. 

We  got  a  job  at  Madera's  planing  mill  in 
Fresno  and  found  a  lodging  house  at  No.  846  I 
street,  run  by  a  Mrs.  Dora  Harrell,  a  widow\ 

Two  days  later  we  were  discharged,  Mr.  Ma- 
dera saying  that  we  were  the  slowest  two  young 
men  that  had  ever  worked  for  him. 

The  fact  is,  the  two  days  he  paid  us  for  was 
like  finding  money,  for  after  that  long  tramp  in 
the  Sugar  Pine  Mountains  we  were  too  weak  to 
work.  It  was  about  all  we  could  do  to  stand 
around  the  mill  and  watch  the  others  work. 

Franck  now  placed  his  grip  in  the  express  office 
and  bade  me  good-bye,  saying  he  was  going  to 
hobo  it  to  Los  Angeles. 

I  refused  to  accompany  him,  relating  my  ^^Rob- 
ert  Smith''  experience,  but  he  was  bent  upon 
going,  and  with  tears  in  our  eyes  we  parted. 

Not  long  after  I  was  taken  ill,  and  for  two 
weeks  I  was  unable  to  leave  my  room. 

My  money  was  all  gone  and  I  was  in  debt  to 
my  landlady  for  board. 

About  this  time  I  received  another  lono^  letter 
from  my  brother,  offering  me  a  half  interest  in 


132  From  North  Carolina 

his  grocery  store,  and  advising  me  to  come  at 
once  if  I  expected  to  find  mother  alive. 

I  lost  no  time  in  telegraphing  the  following 
reply : 

^'Will  come  immediately  if  you  send  ticket; 
otherwise  I  can't.'^ 

Late  the  next  day  I  received  a  telegraph  order 
for  ninety  dollars. 

The  telegraph  company  wrote  out  a  check, 
which  I  got  the  Principal  of  the  Fresno  Business 
College  to  endorse. 

I  purchased  a  ticket  via  Denver  and  Chicago, 
and  after  a  long  and  tedious  journey,  I  arrived 
in  Tarboro. 

My  mother  was  sleeping  and  dreaming  of  her 
boy  in  far  off  sun-bathed  California,  w^hen,  with 
a  light  kiss,  I  awoke  her.  I  will  never  forget  the 
glad  cry  that  escaped  her  lips  when  she  saw  me 
home  once  again,  safe  and  sound. 

It  was  Horace  Greeley,  the  great  American 
author,  who  said :  ^ 'Young  men  go  West." 

From  what  little  I  saw  of  this  great,  grand 
country  beyond  the  Mississippi,  I  think  it  is  good 
advice.  There  are  more  opportunities  to  make 
money  and  more  money  to  be  made,  and  the  cli- 
mate is  better ;  but  unless  father  and  mother  are 
dead,  take  the  well-meant  advice  of  a  young  man 
who  has  recently  been  West;  only  to  learn  that 
there  was  but  one  place  on  earth — ''HOME." 

THE  END. 


to  Southern  California,  .  133 

San  Pedro,  Cal.,  Aug.  8th,  1906. 
M.  F.  Vanranker,  Esq.,  Supt. 

Dear  Sir: — This  will  introduce  Mr.  John  Peele,  who  would 
like  to  make  application  with  you  for  work.  I  know  him 
personally,  and  can  recommend  him  to  be  an  honest,  sober, 
and  energetic  young  man,  and  will  make  you  an  A.l.  con- 
ductor, for  he  is  very  bright  and  quick.  If  you  can  use  him 
you  will  make  no  mistake. 

Very  respectfully  yours, 

J.  W.  JENNINGS. 


St.  Louis,  Mo.,  Jan.  29,  1907. 
My  Dear  Friend  Jack: 

I  received  your  letter  of  the  11th  inst.  I  have  also  been 
very  busy — have  been  working  steady  since  I  got  back 
home.  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  that  you  appreciate  my  poor 
efforts  at  letter-writing. 

Too  bad  about  your  girl  getting  married.  You  are  right 
about  the  girls  all  wanting  to  marry  a  man  with  money. 
I  guess  that's  the  reason  I'm  not  married.  Never  mind,  old 
chap,  you  will  find  another  girl — there  are  others,  don't  you 
know. 

You  state  in  your  letter  that  since  returning  home  you 
have  been  troubled  with  the  asthma,  and  on  account  of  the 
moist  air  and  the  land  being  so  low  and  full  of  malaria  you 
feared  an  attack  of  pneumonia.  I  hope  you  are  well  again 
and  are  rid  of  the  cold. 

I  see  you  are  in  the  grocery  business.  That  proposition 
is  all  right,  if  you  stay  at  home  for  a  few  years.  Stick  to 
it,  old  chap,  for  awhile,  anyway. 

I  intend  to  stay  at  home  for  awhile,  and  any  time  I  do 
go  away  I  will  let  you  know  about  it.  Perhaps  we  may 
meet  again  out  in  the  tall  and  uncut  wild  and  wooly. 

Say,  Jack,  do  you  remember  in  San  Francisco  "Murry  & 
Ready,"  the  "St.  George"  where  we  stopped,  "Madera,"  the 
"Sugar  Pine  Co.,"  the  sixty-mile  "stage  ride,"  the  run-away, 
the  comfortable  little  cabin  on  the  side  of  the  hill  where  we 


134  From  North  Carolina 

slept  that  night,  the  long  tramp  next  day  out  of  the  Sugar 
Pine  Mountains,  and  the  boss  we  had  in  Fresno  at  the 
Madera  Planing  Mill?     Them  were  some  great  old  times. 

My  folks  are  all  well,  thank  you.     Trusting  the  same  of 
yours,  I  will  close,  with  kindest  regards  and  best  wishes, 
Your  old  side  partner  in  California, 

PHIL. 

P.  A.  Franck,  3851  Juniata  St.,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 

I  was  never  in  Paris  or  London,  and  have  never  crossed 
the  pond  anywhere.  My  only  experience  on  the  deep  blue 
was  a  trip  from  Los  Angeles  to  San  Francisco. 

I  agree  with  you  we  did  a  foolish  stunt  when  we  parted 
at  Fresno,  Cal. 

I  am  getting  along  real  nice,  working  hard,  staying  at 
home,  and  saving  my  money. 

Am  still  an  advocate  of  Physical  Culture,  and  take  my 
daily  exercises,  and  perhaps  this  week  will  join  the  Central 
Y.  M.  C.  A.  here. 

I  have  not  been  able  to  find  anything  that  weighs  35  lbs., 
so  do  not  know  if  I  can  muscle  it  out,  but  will  let  you  know 
as  soon  as  I  do.  Pretty  good  work,  old  man,  muscling  out 
35  lbs.     Keep  up  the  good  work. 


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